When Realms Collide
by elvishmockingbird
Summary: Four years after BOB took over his body, Agent Cooper is back to his normal state of control and working for the FBI again. When Agent Powers and Agent Trigger return from Gravity Falls with no memory of what happened, Gordon sends Coop to investigate. It's up to Agent Cooper to find out what is so weird about this town, and fight both its demons and his own. TEMPORARILY ON HIATUS
1. New Beginnings

Agent Powers stepped directly into his superior's office, unsure of what the topic of this surprise meeting was. Slipping in close behind him was his partner, Agent Trigger. Both had recently returned from a rather disappointing journey to Gravity Falls, Oregon. After having spent several weeks investigating strange signals, they had learned that it was all a big mistake and were ordered to return from whence they came. It had been a little bit embarrassing, but Agent Powers wasn't too worried. Every FBI agent has a slipup sometime. It wasn't his fault that the signals were misread, after all.

Agent Trigger nudged him in the arm and gestured to the man sitting at the desk in front of them, who was clearly unaware of their having entered. He was facing the back wall, reclining back in his swivel chair. Agent Powers cleared his throat once, then a second time at a louder volume. Neither did the trick. He sighed, dreading what he knew he was going to have to resort to, and shouted, "POWERS AND TRIGGER REPORTING, CHIEF!"

Instantly, the chair spun around and revealed a man with hearing aids stuck into each ear, both of which were connected to a white box in his hand. "AH, GOOD AFTERNOON, MEN," he said in a voice much too loud for the flimsy walls of his office, "ARE YOU HERE TO SEE ME?"

"YES SIR!" Agent Powers replied. "WE HAVE A MEETING!"

"THAT'S GOOD. I THINK WE'RE SUPPOSED TO HAVE A MEETING RIGHT ABOUT NOW ANYWAY."

The mustached man exchanged a brief glance with his partner. "WHY EXACTLY DID YOU CALL US IN, CHIEF?"

"THE WEATHER'S BEEN GREAT, THANKS FOR ASKING."

This was one of many reasons why Agent Powers often regretted serving under Gordon Cole. Having a sensible conversation with him was almost impossible. This was partially due to his disability, but the regional chief was strange enough on his own. He had once compared Agent Trigger to a lobster in a sun hat and still had yet to explain why.

"GENTLEMEN, I HAVE SOME QUESTIONS FOR YOU," their boss began. "I RECEIVED WORD THAT YOUR INVESTIGATION OF GRAVITY FALLS HAS BEEN HALTED. WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?"

"We were ordered to do so."

"WHAT?"

This time Agent Trigger spoke up, intending to give his partner's voice a break. "A MAN FROM THE BUREAU ARRIVED AND INFORMED US THAT THE READINGS WERE INCORRECT. THE INVESTIGATION WAS CANCELLED. EVERYONE PULLED OUT."

"PULLED OUT?"

"YES SIR!"

"OF WHAT?"

"GRAVITY FALLS!"

"OF COURSE IT DOES. THAT'S SCIENCE, TRIGGER."

Before the yelling could recommence, Gordon pulled out a very thick file from one of the drawers in his desk. He opened it up and shuffled through the many papers inside, then looked back up at the agents confusedly.

"THERE IS NO RECORD OF THAT ORDER. WHO TOLD YOU TO STOP THE INVESTIGATION? DID YOU SEE HIS IDENTIFICATION?"

"YES, HE WAS…he was…um…Powers?" Agent Trigger turned to his partner anxiously, suddenly unable to recall the details. "Who was that guy? The old one with the black coat and the glasses?"

Agent Powers tried hard to remember. "I…I don't know. I'm sure I checked his ID. Why wouldn't I? He was from the top in Washington, I know that. Come to think of it…what did we do in Gravity Falls, Trigger?"

Trigger scratched his head. "Um…I think there was a gift shop or something. I don't recall finding anything suspicious. I thought that was why the investigation was over. Nothing was there."

"YOU'LL HAVE TO SPEAK UP A BIT MORE!"

Powers shouted back, "WE DON'T REMEMBER, SIR! HE SAID HE CAME STRAIGHT FROM WASHINGTON. HIS ORDERS DID MATCH OUR FINDINGS, THOUGH. WE FOUND NOTHING WORTHY OF CONCERN."

"NO THANKS, I ALREADY HAD LUNCH. WHAT DO YOU REMEMBER FROM THE TRIP?"

"We…that is…WE DO NOT REMEMBER ANYTHING OF IMPORTANCE."

"NOTHING?"

"NO, SIR."

Gordon pulled several sheets of paper out of the folder and handed them to Powers. "YOU SENT THESE PHOTOS TO US SHORTLY AFTER YOU ARRIVED, POWERS. THAT ONE SHOWS BITE MARKS IN YOUR BULLETPROOF VEST, AND THE OTHERS SHOW TRACES OF A GREEN, OOZING SUBSTANCE COATING YOUR OTHER BELONGINGS. YOU SENT THEM TO US WITH A NOTE SAYING THAT YOU WERE ONTO SOMETHING BIG, WERE PLANNING TO INVESTIGATE FURTHER, AND MAY REQUIRE BACKUP."

Powers and Trigger looked at each other, now very concerned. "Do you remember taking these?" Powers asked.

"No. I don't even remember seeing these things. Plus, I think you had the camera."

"No, you definitely had the camera. You stopped to take pictures of woodpeckers on the way up."

"Well, yes, but I know I didn't take those. I would remember something with that strong of a bite," he added, pointing out the size of the bite marks in the picture.

"DO YOU HAVE ANY EXPLANATION FOR THESE PHOTOGRAPHS?" Gordon demanded.

Agent Powers handed them back and shook his head. "NO, WE DO NOT."

"YOU KNOW, THAT SOUNDS LIKE A GREAT IDEA. I THINK I COULD GO FOR SOME."

"…what?"

"BUSINESS FIRST, THOUGH," Gordon continued, as if everything made perfect sense in this conversation. "GENTLEMEN, YOU SPENT SEVERAL WEEKS GATHERING EVIDENCE THAT YOU NOW CLAIM DOES NOT EXIST. THERE WAS DEFINITELY NO MAN FROM WASHINGTON SENT TO GRAVITY FALLS DURING YOUR STAY. THAT LEAVES ONLY ONE NATURAL CONCLUSION."

"Um…WE SHOULD GO BACK AND TRY AGAIN?" Trigger suggested. It sounded much more intelligent inside his head, but it was the only thing he could guess his superior was talking about.

"NO, NO, NO," Gordon corrected him. "THERE IS MORE TO THAT TOWN THAN MEETS THE EYE. IT'S ALL IN THE PHOTOS. COMBINE THAT WITH THE UNUSUAL SIGNALS WE TRACKED AND THE SUDDEN MEMORY LOSS OF BOTH YOU AND THE SPECIAL OPS MEN YOU WERE SENT, AND I THINK THIS IS MOST LIKELY A CASE OF BLUE ROSE!"

"Blue Rose?" the two agents repeated. That name was reserved for only the strangest of cases, and they could recall absolutely nothing remotely worthy of it during their brief sojourn to the small town.

"EXACTLY. I AM GOING TO HAVE TO REMOVE BOTH OF YOU FROM THE CASE AND REASSIGN IT TO SOMEONE BETTER SUITED FOR IT. IN FACT, HE SHOULD BE ON HIS WAY IN NOW."

Powers wasn't too happy with this announcement. Yes, every agent slips up, but on a Blue Rose case? How could he have missed it? His mind immediately began thinking of every possible FBI agent who could be "better suited" enough to replace him and Trigger. It would have to be someone Gordon absolutely trusted, which did limit things a lot. _Well_ , he thought _, it should still be in good hands, as long as he doesn't choose one of the weird ones, like…_

Someone knocked lightly on the door and called out in an all too familiar voice, "GORDON! I'M BACK!"

 _Oh no. Not him. Anybody but him._

The man to whom the cheerful voice belonged pushed the door wide open. His black hair was slicked back with about twice as much hair gel as it probably needed. His face revealed a genuine grin, and he waved his hand in greeting in a jerky, almost robotic motion. Agent Powers had never been able to understand humor or anything related to it. He also had very little tolerance for anything that even appeared to be nonsensical. This man, on the other hand, punctuated half his sentences with a thumbs-up, could spend hours listing useless details about Tibet, and had more than once taken his own strange dreams as equal to hard evidence. As a result, this particular agent really irked Powers.

"COOP! I COULD REALLY GO FOR SOME DONUTS!"

Special Agent Dale Cooper pulled a bright pink box out from behind him. "WAY AHEAD OF YOU, GORDON." In his normal, gentler voice, he said to the other agents, "Don't worry, there's plenty to go around. I left the coffee just outside the door though, so I hope you'll excuse me for one moment." He stepped out to pick up the drinks that were resting on a table in the hallway.

Powers groaned. "Trigger, must he always bring donuts to professional meetings?"

When he looked up, he saw that his partner was not answering because his mouth was filled with half of a jelly donut, the other half of which was in his right hand. Trigger looked the other way sheepishly and Powers rolled his eyes.

In a few moments, all parties were seated around Gordon's desk with their respective shares of coffee and donuts. Powers took his somewhat grudgingly, but decided that there were more important things to talk about than whether or not donuts are appropriate for FBI case discussions. As the regional chief began explaining in the loudest voice possible the situation regarding the halted investigation of Gravity Falls and the mysterious circumstances surrounding it, Powers watched Agent Cooper closely. Coop had always been eccentric to say the least, but a few years ago, he had started acting strangely, even for him, and then seemingly dropped off the face of the map. Rumors circled about what could have possibly happened to him, but when he suddenly reappeared last year as his normal, much too happy self, Gordon had reinstated him, denied every rumor, and ordered all agents under his supervision not to ask him any questions about the disappearance. Powers had obediently kept silent, but everything about this situation seemed suspicious. He had expected something to be different about Cooper, something that would indicate whatever happened to him. Yet, while observing him in that room, Powers could detect nothing different from the Agent Cooper of several years ago. Of course, that didn't make him like him any better.

"AND THAT'S WHY WE NEED YOU, COOP. NOT ONE PERSON REMEMBERS WHAT HAPPENED IN GRAVITY FALLS, BUT IT WAS BIG. I NEED YOU TO CONTINUE THE INVESTIGATION WHERE IT WAS STOPPED."

Cooper sipped his coffee, then replied, "IT SOUNDS LIKE A VERY INTERESTING CASE, GORDON. BUT WHY ME?"

"WHY YOU? COOP, YOU'RE THE EXPERT ON STRANGE, SMALL TOWNS. THIS COULD BE JUST LIKE THE TWIN PEAKS CASE, ONLY WITH LESS MURDER AND MORE AMNESIA."

Coop hesitated at the name of Twin Peaks, a hesitation that was quickly noted by Agent Powers. Agent Cooper had loved that town and could have lived there happily for a long time, but things took a rather disturbing turn toward the end of his stay. He had yet to go back there, or to any town that resembled it. "That's what I'm worried about, Gordon," he said finally.

"YOU'RE WORRIED ABOUT WHAT?"

"I'M WORRIED THAT GRAVITY FALLS WILL BE A LOT LIKE TWIN PEAKS!"

"EXACTLY, THAT'S THE POINT. YOU CRACKED THE LAURA PALMER CASE, AND EXPOSED I DON'T KNOW HOW MANY OTHER MYSTERIES ALONG THE WAY. THIS IS RIGHT UP YOUR ALLEY."

Cooper now turned to the other agents in the room. "I'd like to have a word with Gordon in private, gentlemen. Would you mind stepping out? By which I mean far enough that you can't hear his voice," he clarified.

As much as he wanted to hear what secrets Gordon and Coop had, Powers agreed. "Come on, Trigger." They both stood up and headed out. Powers offered Gordon the explanation, "IF YOU'RE FINISHED WITH US, THERE'S A NEW CASE THEY'RE DISCUSSING DOWNSTAIRS THAT MAY NEED OUR HELP."

"NEW CASE," Trigger emphasized his partner's words, as he often did.

"OH, GO AHEAD THEN. COOP AND I CAN TAKE CARE OF THIS WITHOUT YOU."

Once the partner agents had received enough time to safely proceed to the next floor down, Dale Cooper's smile faded. "With all due respect, Gordon, I'm not so sure about this. I've been back over a year now and I still haven't been able to go back to Twin Peaks."

"TWIN PEAKS? WHY ARE WE TALKING ABOUT TWIN PEAKS? THIS IS ABOUT GRAVITY FALLS."

"I SAID I HAVEN'T BEEN ABLE TO GO BACK."

"DO YOU WANT A BUS TICKET? THAT CAN BE ARRANGED."

"No, Gordon, no." He sipped his coffee again, and then continued, "IT'S NOT THAT I DON'T WANT TO. I CAN'T. I STARTED OUT OKAY, BUT EVERYTHING WENT WRONG IN THE END. IF THIS TOWN IS THE SAME AS TWIN PEAKS, I DON'T KNOW IF I CAN HANDLE IT."

Gordon nodded understandingly. He was the only person in the entirety of the FBI in whom Agent Cooper had confided about his absence and the way things were really left up in Twin Peaks. There was no doubt in the chief's mind that there were still more secrets that his favorite agent had not revealed to him, but he had enough trust not to ask for more information. He knew how much Twin Peaks had meant to Coop as well as how much it would hurt him to go back.

"COOP, LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING," he said, standing up and placing a friendly hand on the younger agent's shoulder. "YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM THINGS FOREVER. YOU SHOWED A LOT OF COURAGE COMING BACK TO THE BUREAU, AND NOW IT'S TIME TO SHOW A LITTLE MORE. THIS COULD BE A FRESH START FOR YOU, COOP, A NEW BEGINNING. YES, IT'S A SIMILAR SETTING TO TWIN PEAKS, BUT GRAVITY FALLS IS ITS OWN PLACE WITH ITS OWN STORY. IT'S NOT EVEN IN THE SAME STATE!"

"Well," Cooper mused to himself, "I really have missed working out there. There was always an amazing view, and a gentle breeze stirring in the trees. Fresh air does do wonders for any ailment of the heart, soul, or mind."

"NOT TO MENTION THE FRESH AIR WILL DO YOU SOME GOOD," Gordon added, unaware of what Cooper had just said. "HONESTLY, COOP, I THINK YOU NEED THIS. YOU NEED TO GIVE YOURSELF A SECOND CHANCE. OF COURSE, IF IT'S IMPOSSIBLE, I COULD ALWAYS GIVE IT TO ALBERT."

That last remark brought the smile back to Agent Cooper's face. Albert hated Twin Peaks and every town like it. Just picturing him wandering around a rustic town in the middle of Oregon without a single clue of what he was supposed to be looking for was fairly entertaining. However, it would most likely be neither productive nor enjoyable for the parties involved. He doubted that Gordon would really resort to Albert, but it was hard to tell if his tone was sarcastic or serious with all the yelling.

Coop drained the rest of his coffee and stood up. "GORDON, I'LL DO IT. I ACCEPT THIS CASE."

"THAT'S GREAT, COOP! I KNEW YOU WOULD. YOU'RE GOING TO NEED TO LEAVE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE BEFORE ANY LEADS GO COLD. BE PACKED AND READY FIRST THING TOMORROW MORNING."

"YOU GOT IT." He stood up and gave a hearty thumbs-up to Gordon Cole, who returned it with equal enthusiasm.

That was when Agent Albert Rosenfield opened up the office door and stuck his generally annoyed face inside. "I don't know if either of you care about this," he said, "but I think you should know that Trigger just got his arm stuck in the vending machine and Powers is too busy obsessively researching the health dangers of donuts to get him out. Is this the FBI or a circus?"

"Sometimes it does make you wonder," Coop answered. "Albert, it looks like I'm headed to Oregon. Specifically, a little town named Gravity Falls. I leave tomorrow."

"Is that so?" Albert asked. "Well, better you than me. I prefer civilization."

"FIRST THING IN THE MORNING, COOP, DON'T FORGET!" Gordon shouted.

"I WON'T! SEE YOU TOMORROW, GORDON!"

Agent Cooper waved goodbye to his supervisor in his usual cheerful manner and walked out the door with Albert. "You know," he said as the two of them passed through the hallway, "those two have been acting a little bit off since they got back. Nothing too serious, just a little extra clumsiness. I should probably watch out for that. It wouldn't be ideal to have an FBI agent running straight into tree trunks, now would it?"

"So you're really doing this?" Albert asked, sounding a little bit concerned.

"Albert, I need to restart. I've been out of the game for too long."

"I wouldn't consider a full year of assignments 'out of the game.' Gordon's been a little light on you since you got back, but you're pretty far from the retired category."

Coop shook his head. "It's not about that, Albert, it's about me. I need to prove that I can move on from Twin Peaks."

"Who are you proving it to?"

"Gordon, the Bureau. Myself, mostly. Call it a quest for closure."

Albert stopped his friend before he could take another step. "Look, Coop, you never told me why you went missing or what you were doing. That's probably for the best, because if it's anything like the other things you've explained to me, I wouldn't believe you anyway. But you've got to believe me when I tell you that any guilt or grief about Twin Peaks isn't going to go away just because you solve the mystery of whatever's wrong with Gravity Falls. That's something you need to sort out with yourself."

Coop grinned hearing the usually stoic agent offering such sympathetic words. "Albert, I'm touched. I'll call you if I need anything."

"Yeah, just don't expect me to come down there," Albert replied, resuming his contemptuous attitude. "In a place like that, you'll be lucky if you find one person capable of intelligent conversation."

"All right, Albert," Coop chuckled as he pressed the button for the elevator. "Not unless I'm desperate at least. I'm sure the locals would be better off not hearing your opinion of them." The elevator door opened and he stepped briskly inside. "Until next time, Albert," he grinned.

"Yeah, sure, Coop."

Special Agent Cooper kept smiling at him until the door shut, then moved back until he was leaning against the elevator's wall. It was a long ride down to the parking level. Needing to pass the time, he started dusting powdered sugar off his hands left over from the donuts. Once they were finally clean, he opened up his wallet and dug out a large selection of photos. He looked at the first one. It was of the inside of the Twin Peaks Sheriff Station. Dick, Andy, and Lucy had engaged each other in an intense game of Scrabble while Hawk and Harry looked on, both clearly amused. The next picture of was of Major Briggs catching a fish on their big fishing trip after solving Laura Palmer's murder. The third was of him and Annie on their first date. He had asked the bartender to take it when she wasn't paying attention. Flooded with bittersweet memories, he noticed that his downward journey was almost finished. He sighed and rapidly flipped through all the others. There were too many to peruse now, but he had seen them all at least a hundred times. He finally stopped at the last one: Audrey Horne standing on the Miss Twin Peaks stage, making her speech about saving Ghostwood. Her words rang in his ears. "If you love something, you protect it." It almost hurt to be reminded of what he had failed to do, but something about her confidence and elegance kept him staring at the picture.

The doors slid open and he stuffed the pictures quickly but carefully back into his wallet. His time in Twin Peaks may have ended on a sour note, but Gravity Falls was a fresh start. It was a new beginning, a second chance. He stepped over to his car and took his place in the driver's seat. Producing a black tape recorder from his coat pocket, Special Agent Dale Cooper pressed one of its buttons and stated, "Diane, I have a new assignment. Tomorrow morning, I head for Gravity Falls, Oregon."

 **(A/N: A little explanation...I just finished watching Twin Peaks all the way through for the first time and loved it. I am so looking forward to its return next year. Since I've been a Gravity Falls fan for a while, which I can now see gets at least some of its inspiration from TP, I got the idea to combine them for this fic. It is meant to add onto and parallel the events of the GF universe post A Tale of Two Stans, but that's as much as I'll give away for now. I probably won't be updating this one again until after the GF finale, which is frighteningly soon, but I felt like I needed to at least publish the first chapter to make sure I don't forget it. I am not neglecting my Teen Titans/Kim Possible story by any means, but if I'm slow to publish the next chapter for either story, it's probably because I'm working on two at once now. Stay patient and thanks for reading!)**


	2. Meeting the Sheriff

**(A/N: I forgot to say this last chapter, but I do not own any of the characters, settings, etc created by Alex Hirsch and David Lynch. Also, only a few days after the finale, I miss Gravity Falls already.)**

One lone, black car rolled steadily up a winding, mountainous road. "Diane," its driver said, directing his message to a tape recorder in the passenger's seat, "if the signs beside roads can be trusted, I should reach the town of Gravity Falls within the next twenty minutes. I left headquarters at exactly eight o'clock this morning, and as it is now almost three in the afternoon, I am certainly looking forward to reaching my destination. Stopped for lunch a couple of hours ago. There was a lovely little rest stop with delicious cherry pie. Nothing to compare to the old double R, of course, but then nothing is."

He paused as the car continued to creep along the mountainside. "Good old Norma and her cherry pie," Agent Cooper reminisced. "You know, Diane, Twin Peaks has never quite left my mind. I guess it's the sort of place that holds onto you, even when you try to let go. Hopefully this new town will get my mind off of it for a bit. I also hope it has good coffee. That's what really makes a town great. A damn fine cup of hot, black coffee."

Cooper spotted a colorful sign welcoming him to Gravity Falls. "Well, it looks like I've arrived. So far, nothing out of the ordinary. There are some enormous trees, and in monstrous numbers. They're certainly not douglas firs. I'm going to have to find out what they are. I'm currently leaning toward either sequoias or redwoods, but I'd have to ask a local to be certain. As far as the case goes, it's going to be a bit of a challenge. Two agents have already investigated the town and reported that the strange activity sensed here was indeed pointing to something huge, but they promptly forgot all about it less than a month later. Not one memory of anything unusual in Gravity Falls, despite previously drafted messages indicating urgency. Fascinating, isn't it? I plan on working with the sheriff around here, a Daryl Blubs, and if precedent can be trusted, I will expect full disclosure and cooperation. I certainly hope he knows a few things about this case because they only clue I really have to go on is Agent Trigger's mention of a gift shop, whose description matches a local tourist destination known as the Mystery Shack. What a fitting name. I wonder what mysteries it could be hiding."

Slowly, the agent's surroundings revealed more and more signs of civilization. Gravity Falls was clearly a small, somewhat rural town, but he still picked up on some more urban and modern aspects, like a factory situated on a distant hill and what looked like a fairly up to date video game arcade. His coffee-loving senses perked up as he passed a diner shaped like a wooden log. The name visible above it was Greasy's Diner. It wasn't a very appetizing name, but Cooper knew he couldn't really judge the place until he had sampled at least three helpings of coffee and pie. And possibly a couple donuts.

Finally, he spotted the sheriff's station and pulled into the parking lot. "Well, Diane, this is it," he said before turning off his recording device and stepping out of his now parked vehicle. The building was of a similar architectural style to Harry's station, but it seemed slightly smaller. _Don't do that_ , Coop thought to himself. _If you compare everybody in there to Harry, Hawk, Andy, and Lucy, you're going to have a bad time. Just walk in and act casual._

Pushing open the swinging doors, he stepped over the threshold and turned to what appeared to be a receptionist's desk. "Special Agent Dale Cooper, FBI," he said with a smile, flashing his badge to the person at the desk. "I'm here to meet with Sheriff Blubs."

"Yee-haw!" an over-the-top country accent exclaimed. "Another FBI agent? How excitin'!"

For the first time since his arrival, Agent Cooper looked at who he was talking to. The voice belonged to a tall, thin man in a police uniform. "I'm the deputy around here," he announced. "My name's Durland." He pressed the intercom and said very loudly, "Blubs, there's another one of them government fellas here to see you!"

Cooper extended his hand with a smile. "Pleased to meet you, Deputy Durland."

Durland shook his hand briefly, then handed him a small notebook. "Since you FBI folks are so smart, do you think you could help me finish this maze? I just can't find the end! It's the last one with writing on it, about page ten or so."

Dale opened to the page as directed and stared at it for a couple of seconds. "You say you can't find the end of this maze?" he asked skeptically.

"Uh-uh."

The FBI agent handed it back and said, "It's not a maze, Deputy. That's a connect-the-dots picture. In fact, it looks to me like some kind of rabbit."

"Oh!" Durland exclaimed in wonder. "Gee, thanks, sir. I knew you must be smart."

"My pleasure."

"Did someone want to see me?" a new, deeper voice asked. Cooper looked down and saw a very short, chubby man with dark skin and a bushy mustache looking up at him. He was wearing a sheriff's uniform and holding a mug of coffee. Cooper liked him already.

"Special Agent Dale Cooper," he said, shaking the man's free hand. "I assume you are Daryl Blubs, the sheriff of this fine town?"

"Right you are," the sheriff said. "You know, you're not the first FBI agent we've seen around here."

"Yes," Coop nodded. "Agent Powers and Agent Trigger were here before, investigating suspicious activity of what was reported as being most likely supernatural in origin. I am here to continue their investigation."

Sheriff Blubs let out a chuckle. "Supernatural? In Gravity Falls? Now, we've got some funny rumors and local lore, but I'm afraid you're mistaken. People like to see things as more than they are. Maybe I'm looking at a rock with an unusual shape, or maybe it's a gnome taking a bath. You can't believe everything you hear."

"Maybe not," Agent Cooper replied, "but you can believe strange signals picked up on by our scanners. Let me show you." He walked over to the table in the adjacent waiting area and pulled from his briefcase several sheets of paper. Blubs and Durland came over and sat on the couch, watching him demonstrate. "Look, these are the readings for Oregon as a whole. There's always a little activity here and there, but these are the numbers for Gravity Falls. It's practically off the charts. Signals like these haven't been detected for thirty years. Gentlemen, do you have any idea what could be causing this?"

Blubs looked over each paper carefully, then handed them to Durland, who immediately turned them upside down and struggled to understand them. "Those signals must be an error," Blubs said. "Trust me, I've lived here my whole life and I've never seen anything worth reporting. Neither did the other agents. That's why they left."

"That's just it, Sheriff," the FBI agent pointed out. "Powers and Trigger reported that they had evidence that our signals were indeed picking up on something extreme. They even called in reinforcements toward the end of their stay. Then, suddenly, they claimed that a man had come from Washington and called off the investigation and denied that they had seen anything unusual at all. Apparently, they even got rid of the flash drive that held all their findings."

"Probably just came to their senses," Blubs suggested, taking another sip of his coffee.

Cooper shook his head. "Doubtful. Our mutual supervisor didn't believe it, and neither do I. I have a fair amount of experience with the paranormal, and I'd say that sudden memory loss is a common symptom of it. You two can believe whatever you like, but I'm assigned to stay here until I either prove or disprove Gravity Falls's strangeness. Can I count on your help?"

Blubs and Durland exchanged a look. As the deputy set down the upside down papers, the sheriff said, "We're happy to do whatever you ask. I just hate to waste your time. There's a good chance this'll all come to nothing."

"But we can always use the time to make friends!" Deputy Durland suggested.

"Durland, you bring out the joy in life," Sheriff Blubs replied, placing a hand on his assistant's shoulder.

Coop interrupted the brief yet slightly awkward pause that followed, "I like the way you think, Deputy. As I always say, friendship is the first step toward any lasting relationship. Since I anticipate becoming very good friends with both of you, do you have any recommendations for a place to stay? There's no telling how long I'll be here, so I'll need somewhere comfortable, but not too expensive." He glanced at Blubs's nearly empty mug and added, "Also, if you know where I can get some fine pie and coffee, I'd really appreciate it."

"I think the other agents stayed at the Woodpecker Inn on Third Street," Blubs replied. "From what I hear, the service there is great, and the rates are reasonable. As far as pie and coffee go, you could definitely find some at Greasy's Diner."

"Excellent!" Dale said, punctuating his exclamation with a friendly thumbs-up. "Sheriff, Deputy, I think we're going to get along just fine. Now, if you'll excuse me," he added, stuffing and closing his briefcase and preparing to leave the room, "I have a hotel to check into and a diner to sample."

He turned to leave, but froze just before reaching the door. "Oh, I almost forgot," he said, turning to face Sheriff Blubs again. "What kind of trees are these?"

"Trees?" Blubs repeated, surprised.

"Yes. You have a significant number of very tall trees around here. I noticed them driving up, but I couldn't quite put my finger on their species, though I did narrow it down a bit. Are they redwoods or sequoias?"

"Um…" Blubs thought hard for a moment, "well if you came the way most folks usually do, I think you were seeing redwoods. That's why they call it the Redwood Highway."

"The Redwood Highway," Cooper repeated as though in a trance. "Fascinating. Well, it was nice meeting both of you." Now, he actually did turn around and walk briskly out the door.

Once Coop was completely out of eye and earshot, Blubs turned to Durland. "What do you make of that?" he asked.

"He ain't like the other FBI fellas," Durland replied, "but he seems nice."

Blubs nodded and downed the last of his coffee. "If anything, he seems a little bit too nice. I just hope he doesn't cause any trouble in this town. When he was saying all that crazy talk about the supernatural, I thought he sounded just like those kids at the Mystery Shack. This guy seems harmless enough, though. He'll be gone before we know it anyway."

"Well, I like him," Durland announced, displaying his now completed picture of a rabbit. "He showed me how to finish the picture!"

"Durland," Blubs chuckled, "you are one of a kind."


	3. Pie and Coffee

Greasy's Diner was relatively small, but it didn't appear to have any struggles getting business. Even at an off hour, half the booths were filled, as well as three seats at the counter. The entire room was saturated in the scents of pancakes and coffee, with a hint of smoke left over from something that had caught on fire this morning. Dale took it all in from the doorway, including the "manliness test" game against the wall, the crowd of teenagers squished into one booth, and the generally friendly vibe. So far, so good.

He walked in and claimed a seat at the counter. An older woman in an apron walked over to him. Her hair was gray and her blue eyeshadow was very visible on the one eyelid she kept permanently shut. All of her makeup seemed slightly overdone, but she had a friendly smile that made Cooper look past that. "Well, hello, stranger," she said in rather funny voice, though the FBI agent did not dare laugh. "Haven't seen you in here before."

"Well, that's probably because I've never been here before," he replied.

"Oh! That explains it," she agreed. "I'm Lazy Susan, the owner. We always like seeing new faces around here." She examined him with her one eye for a moment before adding, "You look like you've come from pretty far away. What did you say your name was?"

"I didn't say," he answered, "but I will now. Federal Bureau of Investigation, Special Agent Dale Cooper."

"Really? That's quite a mouthful."

He smiled, a bit amused at her reaction. "Well, most of my friends just call me Coop."

"Coop. Yeah, that's much easier." She pulled a notepad and pencil out of her apron pocket. "So, what'll it be, Coop?"

Without even looking at the menu, he replied, "I would like a cup of coffee as strong and black as you can make it."

"Black coffee," she repeated, writing it down. "Anything else? There's an apple pie I just took out of the oven that goes great with coffee."

He gave her a thumbs-up. "Susan, you're reading my mind."

"Aw, aren't you sweet," she laughed. "I'll have it right out." She shuffled away through the kitchen doors, presumably to prepare the order.

While he was waiting, Coop took the opportunity to observe the man sitting next to him. He was wearing a green suit and talking intensely to a live woodpecker, which was sitting on his shoulder. "You already had a bite of mine," he argued with it. "I never ask you for a piece off your plate. This is getting ridiculous." The woodpecker tapped on the counter. "Oh, I see," the man huffed. "That's all I am to you, isn't it? You've never cared about my feelings." The bird pecked his shoulder. "All right, if you want to try talking this out, we're going outside. No use making a scene," he added, with a glance in Coop's direction. He took one last bite of his pie and set down enough money to cover the check before strutting straight out the door, the woodpecker still clinging to his shoulder.

Lazy Susan reappeared in front of Agent Cooper then, placing before him a steaming cup of coffee and a plate of freshly baked apple pie. "What was that all about?" he asked her.

She peered over the counter and saw the man in the green suit through the door window, fuming at his bird. "Oh, don't be alarmed by that," she said. "There's an obscure law in Gravity Falls that allows people to marry woodpeckers. I doubt it'll last, though. They've had a rocky relationship since the beginning, and they only tied the knot earlier this summer."

Coop pondered this strange situation for a moment. "People can marry woodpeckers here," he finally said. "That has…a few disturbing implications."

The restaurant owner shrugged. "Well, there's a lot of weird folks around here. You just got to get used to it. It's relative, really. That woodpecker guy isn't half as crazy as Old Man McGucket. The man lives in a dump and scurries around like a rodent, sometimes even hiding in the booths past closing time so I have to sweep him out. He thinks he's a gold miner or something. Everybody in town's sane compared to him."

She picked up the woodpecker man's money and dishes and began to carry them back into the kitchen. Now that it had had a chance to cool a bit more, Agent Cooper gently raised his mug of coffee and took in its scent. Rich, dark, and heavenly were the first three words he thought of. Now, for the real test. He shut his eyes and took one long sip. After taking his time tasting and swallowing, he noticed Susan at the other end of the diner, trying to fix a broken pie spinner. "Susan," he called to her, holding up his cup, "this is a _damn_ fine cup of coffee!"

"Why, thank you," she smiled back. "Glad you like it."

He nodded and made another thumbs-up. "Yep, it has the Coop Seal of Approval."

She laughed and returned to her work, eventually giving up on the pie spinner to check on the state of the kitchen. Agent Cooper returned to drinking his coffee. Suddenly, a redheaded teenager flung the door open in such a manner that he couldn't help noticing her. She wore a fur hat, a plaid flannel, skinny jeans, and boots practically soaked in mud.

"Wendy!" the other teenagers in their crowded booth exclaimed.

"Hey, guys," she said, walking over to them and squeezing in next to one of the boys. "Are we getting some food or what?"

"You're late," the boy with long, blond hair said. "You missed watching Thompson eat five hot dogs at once. He nearly barfed."

"I did not!" the chubby, brown haired boy across from him insisted.

"Ha ha, Thompson!" Wendy cheered.

The only other girl in the booth, a slightly shorter one with pink highlights who seemed incapable of looking up from her cell phone, said, "We're probably going to go to the cemetery or whatever. You in?"

Wendy sighed dramatically. "Ugh. I wish. I'm due back at the Mystery Shack in an hour. Stan has me on clean up duty. I'm lucky he even let me off for this long."

Dale's ears perked up at the mention of the Mystery Shack. This girl worked at the same place that the other agents had remembered. She could probably give him some information about it to start his investigation from. "Excuse me for eavesdropping," he said, spinning around on his stool to make eye contact, "but I'm new around here and I've been wondering about that Mystery Shack you're talking about. Do you work there, miss?"

Wendy nodded and leaned back lazily in the booth. "Yup. Just for the summer, though. What do you want to know about it?"

"Anything would be useful. I couldn't help noticing it as I drove in and something about it intrigued me. I always love a good mystery. Is it open now?"

"Not for business," the redhead replied. "Usually Stan hates to close the shack, but there've been a few unexpected…" Coop detected a slight hesitation in her voice, "…things lately and he thought he'd designate a Lazy Tuesday devoted to cleaning up and returning everything to normal. It opens bright and early tomorrow though, at eight o'clock."

"Things?" Coop questioned, his detective instincts activated. "What things?"

Wendy regarded his sudden interest with some skepticism. "Nothing worth talking about," she said warily. "We had a bunch of mini earthquakes last week within, like, a day or two. That messed stuff up a bit. Plus there's your usual wild animal problems and all that. We just needed a quiet day to restock and rebuild."

"How many earthquakes? Do you know what magnitude?"

"I dunno. I wasn't exactly counting. You can ask anybody else in town if you don't believe me." She punctuated that last statement with a gesture to all her friends.

"It's true," a boy with tattoos on his arm and a dark complexion affirmed. "It was like the ground got the hiccups for twenty-four hours."

"Oh, I believe you, kids," Agent Cooper assured them. "It's just very important that I find out about anything mysterious or unusual going on in this town."

"Psh," a boy said dismissively, his black hair hanging in his face and his broken hearted hoodie zipped up tightly. "Can't help you there. I'm sure I'd remember if saw anything really crazy. Although," he suddenly paused, thought, and continued, "whenever weird stuff does happen around here, it's always because of this one…"

"Robbie!" Wendy interrupted. "Did you go to that party at Northwest Manor? I heard they finally let normal people in for the first time in literally forever. Talk about weird, right?"

"Huh?" Robbie lost his train of thought. "Oh yeah! Tambry and I went. It was pretty sweet. Thompson even took a bath in the cheese fondue for five bucks."

"Ha ha, classic Thompson," the blonde boy laughed.

Coop, now certain that the teenage girl was avoiding the topic, redirected the conversation. "But the Mystery Shack. What is it exactly?"

"Pretty much what it sounds like," Wendy answered. "People go there to hear about mysterious things. As an employee, I cannot officially confirm or deny the truth behind any of the exhibits, but hey, that's part of the mystery, right?"

"And who owns the Mystery Shack?"

"That would be Stanford Pines," Lazy Susan chimed in from behind the counter. "That man of mystery has been running the Shack for the past thirty years, and my, does he have some good ones!" She noticed that Coop's mug was empty. "Refill?" she asked, holding up a pot full of hot coffee.

"Definitely," the agent nodded enthusiastically. "So this Mystery Shack is well known around here," he concluded as she poured.

"Sure is," Susan said. "I remember when it first opened. They have such funny things there, like that face…or was it a rock?"

"Wasn't it a face that looked like a rock?" a patron further down the counter suggested.

"No, no," the tattooed boy insisted, "it was definitely a rock that looked like a face."

"Is it a metaphor?" Coop asked, sipping his drink.

"Who knows?" said Susan, returning to the kitchen.

Dale checked the wall clock and began calculating quickly. Wendy seemed to regard him with a healthy amount of suspicion. One very possible reason was that there was something secretive, illegal, strange, or all three at once going on at the Mystery Shack. If this were true, either giving away his identity as an FBI agent or asking too many questions could spoil the lead and make her stop talking. If her statement had been accurate earlier, he had exactly forty-two minutes until Wendy was due back at work. He could easily get in his car, drive over, and investigate before she could report him to her boss, that Stanford Pines fellow.

"Well, it's been great talking to all of you," he said after gulping down the last of his second cup of coffee, "but I'd better be off. Time really flies when you're making pleasant conversation with strangers, doesn't it?" He paid for his meal, stood up, and walked toward the exit, adding, "Thanks for the coffee, Susan!" before fully exiting the premises.

Coop sat down in his car and clicked on his ever present tape recorder. "Diane," he said, "I just may have a lead on this case. As I suspected, there is something odd going on at the Mystery Shack, property of Stanford Pines. Whether or not this lead works out, I have now had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with a few of the locals and Greasy's Diner. Damn good food. And coffee. I don't know how long I'll be staying here, Diane, but I have every intention of taking advantage of the existence of this diner's coffee maker. It's not quite as nice of a place as the Double R, but then again, what is? Oh, and before I forget, they're redwoods. The trees are redwoods and they're simply majestic." He clicked it off, put the car in gear, and headed out of the parking lot and toward where he had previously seen the Mystery Shack.

 **(A/N: Ooh, I wonder what Agent Cooper could possibly get up to in the Mystery Shack? Probably won't update again until my other story updates, just to keep things fair. Once that one's done, I can give this one my full attention.)**


	4. Nothing to Hide

Dipper Pines looked sadly at the shut door that would have appeared to anyone else as a vending machine. The Author, the one person he had wanted to meet all summer, was living in his basement, and he had only been able to catch brief glimpses of him. Today, Ford had emerged in the gift shop determined to capture a strange, extradimensional creature, only to return to his hidden lab the moment Dipper tried to help. Grunkle Stan told him to avoid getting involved with his "dangerous know-it-all" brother, but how could he? Mabel, seeing her brother's disappointment, decided to try another tactic.

"The season finale of Ducktective is airing this Friday!" she announced, waving a magazine with Ducktective's face printed on it. "That's all the mystery you need this week. Come on, quack with us, Dipper! Quack quack quack!"

"Ha ha, yeah," Grunkle Stan laughed. "Quack quack quack!"

"Why isn't he quacking?" Mabel asked, noticing Dipper's forlorn gaze at the vending machine and his distinct lack of excitement over the Ducktective finale.

Before Dipper could reply, Soos burst into the room from outside. "Hey dudes," he said, "I know you told me before, but I just cannot remember that code word for government vehicles. Would you, uh, would you mind telling me again? I thought it was 'apricots', but that doesn't really make sense."

"Soos," Stan asked, "those pesky agents are long gone and don't remember a thing. Now get back to dumping garbage into the Bottomless Pit."

Instead of immediately obeying, Soos pointed to the window. "But Mr. Pines," he said, "that looks exactly like their car. It's shiny and black and has FBI stickers on it. Was the word 'pineapples'? I'm thinking it was something fruity."

"What?!" Stan exclaimed, hastening to the window. Sure enough, another FBI agent's car was pulling into the Mystery Shack's parking lot. Once it parked, a single man with black hair carrying a tape recorder stepped out of it. "Holy Moses!"

"No, that definitely wasn't it. I'm sure it was one word."

Stan jumped away from the window and began shoving boxes over the area where Ford had just caught the octopus-shaped creature. "Soos, stick an out of order sign on that vending machine! Kids, tell him we are closed and nothing else until I get back. As far as any of us are concerned, until that guy leaves, Ford does not exist and there is no basement!" He sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him into his office and shut the door.

The twins and Soos looked at each other in confusion. "What's an FBI agent doing here?" Dipper asked. "We erased all of their memories."

"I don't know, dude," Soos answered, scribbling "Out of Order" onto a piece of paper and taping it to the glass front of the vending machine. "Maybe he just wants some mystery swag on the way to investigate somebody else."

Mabel scampered to the window and peered out of it. "Well, this agent is a completely different one from before," she observed aloud, "and ooh, he's kind of cute."

Dipper rolled his eyes. "Mabel, without even looking at him, I can guarantee he's closer to our parents' ages than ours."

"Hey, doesn't mean I can't enjoy the view. Quick, here he comes!" She stepped back from the window. Dipper tucked Journal 3 into his vest. Soos stood awkwardly in a corner, trying to blend in with the snow globes. When the man knocked on the door, Mabel opened it with a metallic smile.

"Hello!" she said sweetly. "Welcome to the Mystery Shack! Sorry to disappoint, but we're closed today. Feel free to come back tomorrow if you want a tour or some souvenirs. Oh, and might I add that your hair is very shiny? 'Cause it is, and I am loving it."

The man seemed surprised to be greeted by such a young girl, but he smiled and said, "Why, um, thank you. I saw you were closed, but I'd like to have a word with the owner if he's around. A Mr. Stan Pines, so I'm told."

"He'll be back in a bit," Mabel told him. "You'll have to wait."

"I don't mind. I'd like to have a look around. The name's Special Agent Dale Cooper. I'm investigating the mysteries of this fair town of yours and a Mystery Shack seemed like a natural first stop."

Dipper snapped to attention. The mysteries of Gravity Falls were all he had been studying all summer! Well, when he wasn't daydreaming about Wendy. Before he could say anything, he stopped himself, recalling what had happened the last time federal agents became involved with his life. Stan had been arrested, he and Mabel had almost been taken away by government, and Ford had to brainwash everybody just to fix everything. Plus, now he had secrets of his own to cover up, namely the Author living in his basement and his interdimensional portal. Still, this man seemed very different from Agent Powers and Agent Trigger. There was something in the way that he carried himself and talked that felt genuinely friendly.

"Really?" Dipper asked. "What kind of mysteries did you have in mind?"

"Oh, anything really," Agent Cooper replied, stepping inside. "Conspiracies, secrets, whatever's hiding below the surface. Personally, I've always been fascinated by the supernatural, but any mystery will do. Mind if I look around the room while I wait for Mr. Pines?"

"Go nuts," Dipper told him, trying to hide his excitement at finding another kindred spirit.

Before Coop could give the area more than a cursory glance, Stan Pines stepped out of his office, fully dressed as Mr. Mystery, from his fez to his toes. The FBI agent greeted him immediately, "Federal Bureau of Investigation, Special Agent Dale Cooper. I trust you are Mr. Stan Pines, the owner of this establishment?"

"FBI, huh?" Stan asked instead of answering. "Is there something you're looking for? Trust me, you won't find it here. The Mystery Shack is a very legal, moral, and respectable business with no nefarious dealings whatsoever."

"I never suggested that it wasn't," Agent Cooper replied, noting Stan's statement as somewhat suspicious, almost as if he was trying too hard to deny something. "There were two other FBI agents who came through this town recently, and both were returned without any memory of what happened to them here."

"Huh," Stan said, crossing his arms. "Probably hit their heads or something."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know, branches, trees, yadda yadda. A big enough woodpecker can lop off a huge branch if it tries hard enough. All it takes is one bonk on the head and boom! Instant amnesia."

"That's certainly a possibility, but the Bureau seems to think that there is something bigger going on here. Mr. Pines, did Special Agents Powers and Trigger ever enter your gift shop?"

Stan pretended to think. "Hm…not that I can recall. I can't remember seeing them, but then again, a lot of people pass through here. I may be an old man, but I expect I'd remember a visit from the FBI. What exactly were they doing in Gravity Falls?"

"I believe the specifics of that situation are between me, my superiors, and the local sheriff department," Cooper answered. He looked around at the merchandise for a moment, then continued, "The one thing these agents could recall was a gift shop of some kind. This place seems to fit what little description they could come up with perfectly. Mr. Pines, would you swear that you have never seen these two agents before?"

He pulled out a photo of both Agent Powers and Agent Trigger and held it up to Stan's eye level. Stan squinted at the picture for a moment, then said, "Nope. Definitely neither of those two. I don't even know why they'd be in here. You've got to have a certain sense of humor to appreciate this place, and that guy looks like he doesn't have any. Not that I would know of course," Stan quickly added. "I've never met him. Maybe he's the funniest agent in the field. How should I know?"

The twins looked at each other nervously as Stan's mention of Powers's rare disorder caught Cooper's attention. "Yes, how should you know?" the agent mused. "Mr. Pines, I'd like to have a look around this…Mystery Shack."

"What? Why on earth would you want to do that?" the older man asked, chuckling a little bit in apparent disbelief.

"Just a hunch," Coop answered. "I get those a lot, and they usually prove correct at the end of the day. I presume you have nothing to hide, Mr. Pines?"

Grunkle Stan barely managed to keep himself from shooting a glance at the vending machine. "What? Something to hide? Are you kidding? I already told you, those agents were never here! What's left to hide?"

"You never know. Sometimes evidence is found in the least likely of places. Now, may I please take a closer look around?"

Stan's previously jovial expression darkened. "Look, pal, in case you haven't noticed, we're closed today. If you want to take the tour, come back tomorrow morning."

"That isn't exactly what I had in mind…"

"Well, that's what I'm offering you. I already told you all I know. If you want to search my private property, show me a warrant. Otherwise, we open at eight and you'd better bring your wallet."

His sudden hostility made Coop's hunch even stronger. Whether the agents had been to the Mystery Shack or not, there was definitely something going on that Stan Pines did not want him to know about. Still, he knew that there was no way he was going to investigate thoroughly enough as long as Mr. Pines stood before him with this attitude, even if he did have enough evidence for a search warrant, which he absolutely did not. He looked around again at the many eccentric and weird items for sale in the room, then faced the Mystery Shack's owner again. "Well then, I suppose I will have to return tomorrow morning. If you are aware of anything suspicious going on in Gravity Fall, however, I advise you to come and see me at the sheriff's office as soon as possible. That goes for any of you," he added, glancing at Dipper, Mabel, and Soos in his corner of snow globes. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Pines," he said with a polite nod before turning and walking out of the gift shop, whistling a cheerful tune to himself.

Before leaving, Dale decided to at least take a look around the outside of the Mystery Shack. He circled around, looking up and down its walls. There was little that stood out to him besides the "S" that had fallen loose from the tourist trap's sign, the general disrepair of the porch, and an unusually large number of triangularly shaped windows. In short, it was disappointingly normal looking. He shrugged and drove off to find the Woodpecker Inn.

Once the black car disappeared, everyone in the Shack released a sigh of relief. "Whew!" Stan said. "That was close. So much for Ford's genius plan to get the government off our backs."

"But Grunkle Stan," Dipper pointed out, "they don't have any record of that hazardous waste you 'supposedly' stole, and it doesn't sound like Agent Cooper has even heard of you. Are you sure this is even a problem?"

"Are you kidding?" his great-uncle responded. "If that agent finds out about Ford and his machine, all kinds of bad things could happen. I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure that that portal could unleash all kinds of havoc in the wrong hands. That goes for everything else in my brother's weird journals too. If they find it, the least they'll do is arrest me for fraud for impersonating Ford for the past thirty years. Trust me, we do not want Special Agent Whoever sniffing around here. Although," he added after a slight pause, "that guy did have a little bit of good news."

"What's that?" Mabel asked.

Stanley Pines's face betrayed a scheming grin. "That ridiculous Sheriff Blubs is the one helping him."


	5. Memories

At the Woodpecker Inn on Third Street, Dale Cooper checked in and brought his luggage up to Room 618. He immediately set to work unpacking and making himself at home, narrating almost every action to Diane. Once he finished hanging and neatly folding his clothes, setting out his toiletries, arranging all of his Tibetan meditation books in alphabetical order, and making sure his gun was safely stored and out of view, he kicked off his shoes and practically fell onto the bed. "Diane," he recorded, "the bed in Room 618 is soft, comfortable, and quite to my taste. The room is slightly cramped, but not enough to complain about. After so much travel and beginning my investigation of the Mystery Shack, I believe I deserve a moment of rest. I will update you again when it is time for my next meal. Hopefully, pie will be involved."

He clicked off his tape recorder and set it on the bedside table next to his wallet. Almost involuntarily, he picked up his wallet and pulled out the thick stack of photos stored inside. Again, he began to flip through them, memories of Twin Peaks flooding back into his mind. There was Bobby playing football with Mike in the park. There was the Log Lady sitting eerily in the back corner of an almost empty room. There was Leland, possessed by BOB at the time, with Ben and Jerry singing karaoke around Ben's desk. Well, really Ben was sitting at his desk looking annoyed at Leland and his brother. Another picture was of Audrey dancing in that funny style of hers to the 'dreamy' tune of the diner's jukebox. The next showed the same girl laughing hysterically and pointing at something in the distance, the wind messing up her brunette hair. After that, another one of Audrey sitting at her desk in the Great Northern, doing some kind of paperwork and looking very professional.

 _Why do I have so many pictures of Audrey?_ Cooper mused. He flipped through a few more and found that almost all of them contained some image of that pretty young woman. He had a feeling he knew the answer to his own question, but he decided to ignore it. It didn't matter anyway. Audrey was gone, Annie was gone, and there was no telling how many other lives were ruined.

After escaping the dreaded Black Lodge, Coop's mind had assimilated most of BOB's memories from their period of trading places. Among the memories was the knowledge that Annie had died less than a week after the catastrophe at the Miss Twin Peaks competition. Heartbreaking as that was, it was even worse knowing that somehow, even though it looked like a mere side effect of her injuries, BOB had been the one to use Agent Cooper's trusted face to sneak into the hospital and end her life personally. Without the FBI agent to catch him, the murderer was the only one who knew the truth and had not even been suspected. Fortunately, when BOB returned briefly to the Black Lodge, as he usually did after a killing, Coop took the opportunity to trap him there and fight him for his freedom. After nearly three years, which passed rather quickly in the Black Lodge's nonlinear timeline, and with some help from a few other supernatural beings, the real Dale Cooper emerged from the Black Lodge and shut its curtained door to the physical realm forever, containing all of its inhabitants, benevolent and malevolent, to their own realm and the mindscape. They could still haunt people's dreams, but all physical portals were shut, even that pocket above the convenience store. Before he could rejoice much about his victory, he was flooded with the realization that Annie Blackburn, his girlfriend, had been murdered by the very hands that he now possessed. It was enough to make him scream, which he did.

He immediately tried to feel for the scarlet curtain between the trees, hoping that he had not completely locked the door on himself. Annie had died long ago, but there was no telling if her spirit had already passed through. During his own time in the Black Lodge, Coop had seen Laura Palmer herself pass through, and she had died before he had even arrived in Twin Peaks in the first place. If he could get back in, maybe he could find Annie and bring her back. Alas, he as too late. The curtain was gone, and so was his hope of seeing Annie again.

He wandered through the woods as if in a dream, and by some miracle found himself not in Twin Peaks, but in another small town like it. He located the local sheriff's office, presented his badge, and requested that a message be sent to Gordon Cole to come and get him. Naturally, Gordon was relieved to find his favorite agent alive and well after his three year disappearance. Once they were behind closed doors, Dale told Gordon how he had been trapped in the Black Lodge, how his evil doppelganger had taken his place, how he had finally fought his way out and contained the supernatural beings there to their own plane where they could not return from. He did not tell Gordon that his doppelganger had killed Annie. He did not reveal that to anyone.

After completing a very long psychological examination, Special Agent Dale Cooper was reinstated in the FBI. His first action was to locate a newspaper from a date as close to his disappearance as possible. BOB did leave him most of his memories, but even he could not be aware of everything at once. What Coop found struck him like a punch to the gut. According to the paper dated two days after the Miss Twin Peaks fiasco, an explosion had occurred at the bank. The photos showed the building completely demolished. What really caught the agent's eye was not the image, however, but the report that a Miss Audrey Horne had chained herself to the bank's vault just moments before in protest of Ghostwood's development. According to the bank teller, himself in poor condition from the incident, she had specifically told him to call Agent Cooper when he had asked her to leave. Once the bomb detonated, everything turned to rubble, and Audrey Horne was reported dead.

Coop had tried to read the rest of the newspaper, but found he just couldn't. He was sure that somehow, if he had not been stuck in the Black Lodge chasing BOB around in circles that day, he could have been called to the scene and done something, anything, to save Audrey. He had broken FBI regulations before to protect her, and he knew he would have done so again in a heartbeat. He had not been able to give her the kind of relationship she had hoped for, but that did not make her any less important to him. She had been one of his closest friends in Twin Peaks. She had been special. Now, she was gone, and he was sure that it was his fault.

He put the photos down on the nightstand. No use dwelling on old memories if he could help it, not that he really could. He yawned, still tired from a day of nonstop traveling and investigating. Slowly, he shut his eyes…

Almost instantly, he found himself surrounded by red curtains, sitting in a black armchair that rested on a white and black, zigzagging floor. Across from him sat the Little Man from Another Place in his usual red suit. Coop wasn't too surprised to be pulled back here in his dreams. Now that he had closed off the Lodges to the physical realm, it was the only way for the Little Man or anyone else to get his attention.

"agenT coopeR," the Little Man said, sounding like he was talking backwards. He lifted a white mug and offered it to the agent. "coffeE?" he asked.

Cooper knew better than to take it. One of the most torturing experiences of the Black Lodge had been his inability to drink good coffee. It always changed into something undrinkable before it could reach his mouth. "No thank you," he said calmly, still sitting up straight in his chair.

The Little Man shrugged and drank the mug himself. For a small man, he was able to gulp down all of its contents very quickly, and all in one gulp too. Then again, the laws of physics didn't really apply in either of the Lodges. The mug disappeared when he was done with it, and he looked at Agent Cooper again, smiling mischievously.

"gravitY fallS," he said. "jusT wesT oF weirD. slightlY easT oF eeriE. alwayS nortH oF normaL."

"Yes," Dale nodded. "I am in Gravity Falls. Is there something you would like to tell me about it?"

Instead of answering, the Little Man looked around in all directions, as if making sure they were alone. He then looked Cooper in the eyes and rubbed his hands together, saying, "iN gravitY fallS, I seE doublE."

"You see double?" Cooper repeated, curious about what the Little Man could mean.

The Little Man hopped off his armchair, nodded, and said, "doublE troublE."

A silence descended on both of them. Soft music began to fill the room, and the Little Man from Another Place clapped his hands, then began to dance around the room in his funny style. He stepped around Cooper's chair as he danced. Cooper watched and tried to ask a few clarifying questions.

"What do you mean by double trouble?" he asked. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

"ssH," the Little Man said, pressing his finger to his lips. "I seE doublE." He rubbed his hands together, then snapped his fingers.

Suddenly, Coop jolted awake. He was back in his hotel bedroom, sitting on his bed. A thought was in his head that he did not understand, but had to write down somewhere. He couldn't even identify what the thought was, only that it existed. It was like the Little Man himself had put it there. He jumped up and sifted through all of his belongings until he found a pencil and notebook, then wrote down what his mind told him without even processing it. When he finished, he sat back down on the bed and looked at the page. It read: VWDQ LV QRW ZKDW KH VHHPV.

He stared at it for a few minutes, but could make no sense of it. There was no clear pattern, and he was certain he had never seen this jumble of letters before. He felt the emptiness in his stomach and realized that it was time for his next meal. There was no way he could process this on an empty stomach. Some good pie ought to help. He grabbed his notebook, pencil, wallet, tape recorder, and badge and prepared to leave. As he reached for his wallet, he hesitated, then stuffed the photos of Twin Peaks back into it. It wasn't like anything would happen to them in the room. He just felt like he needed to have them. Finally, all his things in order, he walked out in search of dinner.

 **(A/N: Happy Mother's Day to any moms reading this! Also, if you came here because you saw Audrey's name in the character list, DO NOT PANIC! Audrey will be very involved in this story. To say anything else would be a spoiler, so that's all you get.)**


	6. Not Joking

One meal later, the jumble of letters still made no sense. Agent Cooper decided to sleep on it, but this time the Little Man from Another Place did not pay a visit. He awoke well rested, but clueless. He pulled out his black tape recorder and clicked it on. "Diane," he told it, "yesterday, I was visited by the same Little Man who has often appeared in my dreams. As usual, he was enigmatic and strange. He spoke of Gravity Falls and mentioned 'seeing double' as well as 'double trouble'. When I awoke, I found that he had left a message in my mind, which I wrote down." He fished out his notebook and flipped to the right page. "It says, 'VWDQ LV QRW ZKDW KH VHHPV'. I received no further information from him about any of these messages, but I have a strong feeling that they are connected to the greater mystery here in Gravity Falls. I intend to share them with Sheriff Blubs. They may have some significance to him. I also plan to take a tour of that Mystery Shack. I know it's probably a tourist trap and a waste of money, but if it's the only way I'm allowed to look closer, so be it."

He quickly dressed and grabbed his things, ready to head off to find the Sheriff. When he opened the door, he found himself ambushed by three people standing in his way. One was a tall, beautiful brunette woman holding a microphone. Her cameraman stood slightly behind her. The third person was standing next to the woman. He was a short man with an oddly shaped face, mustache, a bow tie, and checkered pants with suspenders. He held in his left hand a twig, and in his right hand a couple crumpled pieces of paper.

"Toby Determined from the Gravity Falls Gossiper," he said in a voice unlike anything Coop had ever heard before. "Are you the FBI agent who arrived yesterday?"

"Yes I am," said Coop. "What exactly…"

"I hear you want to discover the mysteries of this town," Toby said. He seemed to put extra emphasis on the word "mysteries", but that may have just been his accent. Was it an accent? The agent could not really tell. "What have you found so far?"

"Well, I only got here yesterday," Agent Cooper answered. "I really haven't had the time to discover anything significant."

Toby placed his twig onto one of the sheets of paper in his hand. "What kind of mysteries do you expect to find here? Ghosts? Monsters? Sorcery?"

"I don't know yet. That's the nature of mysteries." He noticed the funny man scratching at the paper with his twig. "Um, your pencil's a twig, Toby."

Toby Determined stopped scratching and looked at the instrument he had been "writing" with. "I know," he sighed, hanging his head in disappointment.

"Shandra Jimenez, a real reporter," the woman interrupted, stepping slightly in front of Toby. "The people of Gravity Falls want to know if there is any cause for alarm now that the FBI is back in town. Can you disclose the reason for your stay here and if citizens should be concerned about it?" She held out the microphone for his answer.

"I am not at liberty to discuss the exact reason why I'm here with the general public," Dale explained, "but I can say that very little is known at this point. I'd say the citizens of this town need not be concerned, but if they do witness anything unusual, they should report it to either Sheriff Blubs or me."

"And is there any connection to the other two FBI agents who recently left?" she asked.

"Yes, but that is all I can say about it. Now, Miss Jimenez, a man needs his breakfast, so I hope you'll excuse me."

He walked around Toby and whistled a cheerful tune until he reached the elevator. Shandra Jimenez's shoulders slumped. "Finally we get some real news around here and he won't even talk about it," she grumbled to her cameraman.

Toby took a second to think of something smooth enough to say to his crush, then commented, "You know, Shandra, since your interview's been cut short, you could always spend the extra time with…"

"Don't even think about asking me out," she snapped before walking away, her cameraman following right behind her.

"Okay," Toby said sadly. "I guess I'll have to settle for another date with a cardboard cutout."

When Sheriff Blubs and Deputy Durland arrived at the police station, they were surprised that not only was Agent Cooper already there, but he had made himself at home in one of the back meeting rooms, set a pink box of a dozen donuts in the center of the table, and written an unintelligible combination of letters on a large chalkboard.

"Now what's going on in here?" Blubs asked, walking inside the room.

"Ah, Sheriff!" Coop welcomed him in. "Glad you're here. I took the liberty of getting us all some donuts for breakfast. Help yourself. There should be enough for the three of us."

The sheriff lifted the box's lid. "There are twelve donuts in here," he said.

"Precisely. We can all have up to four each. Seems like a reasonable amount."

"Well, I can't argue with donuts." He pulled a chocolate frosted treat out of the box and sat down in a chair at the table. Durland did the same thing. "What exactly are you doing in here, Agent Cooper?"

Coop, who had been staring at the chalkboard, turned around and looked at Sheriff Blubs. "Sheriff," he asked, "what do you know about Tibet?"

"What?"

"Tibet. Have you ever heard of it?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Blubs answered, his mouth too full of donut to properly comprehend.

"Tibet," Cooper explained, "is a beautiful country in the Himalayas. Its people were once free and happy, but they have since been taken over by China and their religious leader, the Dalai Lama, has been forced into exile. Have either of you heard much about the Dalai Lama?"

Durland raised his hand slowly. When Agent Cooper pointed to him, he said, "I think my cousin has a pet llama."

"No, Durland, not a llama," Coop said patiently. "I'm talking about the Dalai Lama, the rightful leader of Tibet, and the spiritual leader of Tibetan Buddhism. He appeared to me once in a dream, and ever since, I have cared deeply about the plight of the Tibetan people. He also showed me a problem solving technique that combines both physical activity and the subconscious, which I have used multiple times with a fair amount of success."

"Wait a minute," Blubs interrupted, "were you using that technique in dreams too, or in real life?"

"Both actually," Coop replied, "but it's a lot more useful in real life, since a key part of it involves connecting the conscious to the subconscious, whereas the dreamscape is mostly controlled by the subconscious and it can therefore affect the outcome of the procedure."

"What?"

"Never mind. The point is, when I have dreams, I tend to take them seriously, and they usually have important implications. Gentlemen, last night I had a dream that I believe may hold the key to unraveling the source of those mysterious readings." He picked up a powdered donut, took a bite, then walked back to the chalkboard and pointed to the large letters he had written. He swallowed his bite, then read, "VWDQ LV QRW ZKDW KH VHHPV."

The two lawmen stared at the meaningless letters for a few seconds. "Did…um…did the Dalai Lama tell you this too?" Blubs asked.

"Oh, no," Agent Cooper shook his head. "It was the Little Man from Another Place. He's a dancing midget in a red suit. I trust him though. He's been right before."

"Uh huh," the Sheriff said, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. He finished off his donut and sat there for a moment. Suddenly, both he and Durland began laughing so hard that Coop was genuinely worried that they couldn't breathe. Blubs pounded the table while Durland fell to the floor. Coop had no idea was could be so funny.

"Oh, you got us good, Mr. FBI! Ha ha!" Blubs chuckled, wiping a laugh-induced tear from his eye. He struggled to say anything more than a word or two between laughs. "Tibet…dreams…midgets…ha!"

"Ha ha, you city folk say the darnedest things!" Durland exclaimed, holding his sides.

"You sure do! Who put you up to this, huh? Those teenagers?" Blubs asked, his laughter calming down at least to the point where he could speak more than one sentence.

"What?" Coop asked, confused and not laughing at all. "No, of course not. I'm telling the truth. Granted, it's a little odd, but…"

"Come on, man," Blubs smiled, "give up the act. That was some fine entertainment all right. I actually thought you were serious for a moment there. Now which one of those crazy teens put you up to it? They're always trying to prank us. Was it Robbie? Wendy? Nate?"

"I'll bet they're all hidin' behind this here blackboard," Durland suggested, hopping to his feet. He walked over to the board. "Peek-a-boo!" he said before flipping the dark surface upside down. Not only did he find no teenagers, but he also made it start repeatedly spinning on its axis and hitting him on the nose every time it came around. "Ow! Ow! Ow!" he exclaimed each time.

Agent Cooper held out a hand and stopped the spinning chalkboard. "But I am serious," he insisted. "That Little Man has been very helpful to be before. He's a mischievous little guy, but he just can't help revealing little things. He's cryptic, but he's never wrong. You see, there are these two places called the Black Lodge and the White Lodge…"

"Agent Cooper," Blubs interrupted him, "it was a good joke. You'll ruin it if you keep it up too long. That was fun though. I can always use a good laugh at the station."

Agent Cooper was desperate for the Sheriff to understand. "Blubs, hear me out. I know it sounds weird, but I just know that this message means something important. Are you sure you've never seen anything like it before?"

Blubs shook his head. "Never in my life. Durland?"

"Me neither," Deputy Durland replied, shaking his head as well.

"Hm," the FBI agent said, turning around the face the blackboard. "How odd. Maybe it stands for something. Could it be an acronym?"

The Gravity Falls lawmen looked closely at Agent Cooper and how intensely he was studying the nonsense letters he had written. "You're actually serious about this," Blubs observed, surprised.

"I am."

The Sheriff let out a low whistle. "Man, I knew you city folk were nuts, but this takes the cake. You're worse than those crazy kids at the Mystery Shack."

Agent Cooper suddenly turned his head to look at the short man. "What about the Mystery Shack?" he asked.

"Oh, just these twins who live there," Blubs explained. "Dipper and Mabel Pines. Stan's their great-uncle and they're staying with him for the summer. The two of them are all hopped up on conspiracy theories and whatnot, especially Dipper." A thought popped into his brain that made him chuckle for a moment before sharing it. "Hey, who knows? Maybe he can make sense of that crazy dream message! Ha!"

Cooper remembered seeing two children at the Shack when he had visited. They had looked about twelve or thirteen years old. Mabel must have been the one who had complimented his hair. That meant that Dipper had to be the other one, the boy who had sounded more than a little bit interested in the mysteries he was trying to uncover. _Maybe those two know something_ , he thought.

Suddenly, Blubs's and Durland's radios came to life. "ATTENTION ALL UNITS: STEVE IS ABOUT TO EAT FIVE WATERMELONS IN ONE SITTING. I REPEAT: FIVE WATERMELONS IN ONE SITTING. I'LL NEVER UNDERSTAND YOU, STEVE."

"Whoo, don't want to miss that!" Blubs exclaimed with excitement. "Come on Durland! Agent Cooper, you can stay here if you like. We've got some real police business to see to."

Before Dale could protest, Blubs and Durland left in search of Steve and his watermelons. His shoulders slumped sadly. After a year of associating only with Gordon and a couple of other agents, he had forgotten how insane he could sound. Gordon always believed every word he said. Alfred rejected the very possibility of the supernatural and was the biggest skeptic in the FBI, but at this point in their friendship, he was willing to let it go with a sarcastic quip and a change of subject. He had certainly never laughed at him. Back in Twin Peaks, Harry had been pretty willing to accept the strange events around him. Coop had expected Blubs to be a bit more like Harry. This interaction proved that the two men had little in common. If he wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery, Agent Cooper knew he was going to have to rely on himself more than Blubs or Durland. He pulled out a chair, reached for another donut, and returned to studying the chalkboard.


	7. Morning in the Mystery Shack

Dipper and Mabel took their seats at the breakfast table, with Waddles following close behind. "Good morning, Grunkle Stan!" Mabel shouted, announcing their presence. "We're ready for breakfast!"

To the twins' surprise, it wasn't Grunkle Stan that emerged from the kitchen, but his brother, Stanford Pines. "Hello, children," he said, waving his six-fingered hand. "I decided to take a break from my research this morning and upgraded the stove to run on that radioactive waste left over from opening the portal. Don't worry, it's all nuclear fusion. No emissions, no waste produced."

"You achieved nuclear fusion in our own stove?" Dipper's eyes widened in disbelief and wonder. "That's incredible!"

"Well, it did take a couple hours," Ford humbly admitted. "Plus, I added an automatic feature that prevents anything from being overcooked. Now, how should I test it out?"

The twins looked at each other, then chanted together, "Pancakes! Pancakes! Pancakes!"

"Pancakes, huh?" Ford said thoughtfully. "I think I remember a special recipe from Dimension 42'\\...or was it 43? I can't remember if all the ingredients exist in this dimension, but I can look around." He walked over to the pantry and began searching.

"When in doubt, just use jellybeans," Mabel suggested. "That's how I got my lemonade to turn such an interesting color last week."

"Yeesh," Grunkle Stan said as he finally stepped his fluffy slippers down the stairs, "I've still got an aftertaste from that. You kids hungry?"

Dipper answered, "Great-Uncle Ford is making us some interdimensional pancakes on our new nuclear fusion stove! Isn't that awesome?" The boy could hide exactly none of his excitement.

Stan peered over at his brother, who was now combining the ingredients he had been able to locate in a large pan on the stove. "Oh," he grunted. "Well, someone's making himself at home."

"To be fair, Stanley, it is technically my home," Ford pointed out, flipping a perfectly golden-brown pancake in the air.

Stan muttered something under his breath and slouched into the armchair in front of the television. After a brief search for the remote, he began flipping channels. Dipper got up from his seat and walked across the room until he was next to Ford. "Um, Great-Uncle Ford?" he asked, his voice cracking awkwardly.

"Yes?" the scientist asked without looking away from his pancakes.

"Do you, um, need any help? With your research, I mean. Or the pancakes. Or whatever. Oh, what am I saying?" he added quietly, embarrassed in front of his hero.

Ford handed him a plate, now stacked with twelve immaculately formed pancakes. "Sorry, kid, but I already told you that I'm better off going it alone."

Stan looked away from the TV and added, "Come on, Dipper. Why waste the rest of your summer in a dingy old lab when you could be having the time of your life in the Shack with me, huh? That's where the real fun is."

Dipper sighed and looked sadly at his breakfast. Once again, his attempts to spend time with the man he had been trying to find all summer had proved fruitless. Mabel tried to cheer him up by reminding him, "Hey, Dipper, didn't Stan say you could go to the store today and pick out some new games to replace those weird ones in the closet?"

Dipper perked up a little bit. "Oh yeah, that's right."

"I still don't see what you kids have against _Don't Wake Stalin_ ," Stan interjected from his seat in front of the TV. "Sure, it's falling apart, lost most of its pieces, and has way too many bad jokes about communism, but that game's a classic. Still, I'd rather have you picking out some new game than messing around with my brother's weird research."

"I'm still here, you know," Ford pointed out.

"So what? I'm agreeing with you." He clicked the down arrow on the remote and flipped to the local news station. A serious woman with brown hair sat at her desk in the center of the screen. "All right, Shandra, what's the report today?"

"Gravity Falls has recently acquired a new temporary resident," Shandra Jimenez announced in the professional tone of a "real reporter". "This man, Special Agent Dale Cooper, is not another tourist flocking to our fair town, but an agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation."

An image of Dale Cooper walking out of the police station appeared in the open space next to her. "Hey, look!" Mabel exclaimed, jumping out of her seat and running to the television. "It's that hot agent guy who came here yesterday!"

Dipper and Ford crowded around as well. Shandra continued, "Special Agent Cooper is the third FBI agent to appear in Gravity Falls recently, and it would appear that he is continuing the work of the first two, who citizens recall leaving town late last week."

Video footage of Agent Cooper took over the screen. "I am not at liberty to discuss the exact reason why I'm here with the general public," Cooper said to the camera, "but I can say that very little is known at this point. I'd say the citizens of this town need not be concerned, but if they do witness anything unusual, they should report it to either Sheriff Blubs or me."

"And is there any connection to the other two FBI agents who recently left?" Shandra Jimenez's voice asked from outside the frame.

"Yes, but that is all I can say about it. Now, Miss Jimenez, a man needs his breakfast, so I hope you'll excuse me."

The video shut off and the screen now showed Shandra at her desk again. "This was all Agent Cooper was willing to reveal this morning. The first two agents, Powers and Trigger, left without explanation only a short while ago, only to be replaced by a third, more secretive agent. Could this mean a serious investigation into our town? What could be going on to be worthy of the FBI's attention? I'm Shandra Jimenez, and this is actually kind of newsworthy."

Ford reached over Stan's shoulder and pushed the power button on the remote, shutting off the television. "There's another FBI agent in town, and you let him into the Shack yesterday?" he exploded. "Stanley, how could you not tell me about this? Do you have any idea what will happen if my research gets into the wrong hands? It could be chaos!"

"Relax, poindexter!" Stan replied, not sounding very relaxed himself. "I'm the one who's been keeping your secret lab out of the public eye for the past thirty years, remember? The guy knows nothing about what the other agents found, and I'm keeping it that way. He tried to sniff around, so I told him the only way he's going to see any of the Mystery Shack is if he pays for a tour."

"Stanley, you can't be serious," Ford said, shaking his head like a disapproving parent. "You can't let him take a tour. He's bound to find something."

"Oh really?" his brother countered, not enjoying Ford's condescending attitude. "He may not even show up. If he does, well, compared to those two serious agents, this one seems like a nice guy. Nice guys are the easiest to con, and I've conned a lot more of them than I think you have. I'll try to get rid of him, but even if I can't, I can show him a billion fake exhibits and never let on there's a real one. Plus, I could use the cash. In case you forgot, there are now four people living in my house that I have to feed, and your interdimensional pancake ingredients don't come from thin air."

There was a brief pause, then Ford replied, "Again, Stanley, it's my house," before silently retreating out of the room. Dipper heard the vending machine door creak open, then slam shut on the other side of the wall. Ford was back in his lab, and he wouldn't be back up until at least lunchtime.

Once Ford was safely out of earshot, Grunkle Stan stood up and instructed the kids, "The Shack opens in half an hour. I hope the agent doesn't come by, but if he does, you leave him to me, understand? I know how to deal with him, and I don't need either of you spilling the beans about Gravity Falls's weirdness."

"But what if he's different from Powers and Trigger?" Dipper asked. "You yourself said that he seems like a nice guy. What if he's only trying to help?"

"He's the government," Stan answered. "Need I say more? Now, run along and get ready. We've got suckers to sell to."

By the time a half hour had passed, Grunkle Stan had donned his Mr. Mystery suit and eyepatch, Mabel had begun organizing tee shirt stacks so that they looked like a rainbow, Soos had arrived and switched several of the attractions' heads, most of which was intentional, Wendy had taken her seat reclining behind the counter, and Dipper had found a place to sit where he could both read and watch the vending machine. Waddles just curled up in a big basket of Mabel's yarn and knitting supplies and stayed there looking adorable. Sure enough, once the Shack opened, it was filled with "suckers". Tourists' cars filled the parking lot. One particular car arrived slightly after the rest: a black government vehicle driven by a man with slicked hair, a serious caffeine addiction, and a tape recorder.

Agent Cooper stepped out of his car and walked briskly up the steps to the gift shop's entrance. Upon arriving inside, he first noticed Dipper sitting close to the door. "Hello," he said with a friendly smile, extending his hand to the twelve-year-old. "I don't believe we were ever properly introduced, but am I correct in assuming your name is Dipper Pines?"

"Uh…yeah. Yeah, that's me." Dipper shook his hand uneasily, then went back to reading his book.

Cooper was not finished with being friendly. "Mind if I ask what you're reading?" he inquired.

Dipper showed him the cover. "It's called _The Sibling Brothers and the Case of the Caper-Case Caper_ ," he said. "It's part of a mystery series."

"Fascinating," Coop remarked. "I remember being all over books like that when I was your age. There's nothing better than a good mystery, is there?"

Dipper could feel himself starting to warm up to this man. "You've got that right, Agent Cooper," he replied. "This is the fifth book in the series, and the fourth one had a major twist at the end that no one saw coming. This one practically has me on the edge of my seat."

"And that's the best kind of mystery there is. Say, you wouldn't happen to know where Stanford Pines is, would you? He is your great-uncle if I'm not mistaken?"

"Yeah, Stan's Mabel's and my great-uncle," Dipper nodded. "We call him our 'grunkle'. I think he's still leading the first tour of the day. He should be back any minute."

"Grunkle," the FBI agent repeated. "I like it. So Mabel is your twin sister, correct?"

"Yes. She's over there," the boy replied. He pointed to where she stood at the other end of the room, sharing a box of Chipackerz with Waddles and squealing with pleasure whenever the pig made any cute sounds.

"I see. It must be nice to stay here for the summer and get away from everything. Have you been in Gravity Falls since summer started?"

"Yep," Dipper answered. "We got here on the first day of summer, and we'll leave on the last day."

Agent Cooper bent down to Dipper's eye level, his expression still friendly, but a little more serious than before. "Dipper, have you or your sister seen anything unusual since you arrived in this town? I mean something really strange, supernatural even. I don't mean to pry, you see, but there are some things that may go unnoticed by people who are used to living here that a newcomer might pay more attention to."

Dipper hesitated. "Is this an interrogation?" he asked nervously.

Coop smiled reassuringly. "No, not at all. You're not under any suspicion. I just have a very strong feeling that you've seen some strange things this summer, and since I'm trying to discover what mysteries are hiding in Gravity Falls, I think some information from you would be very helpful. Now, is there anything you would like to tell me?"

"I…uh…" Dipper tried to think of an excuse. Ford wouldn't want him to tell the agent the truth, and Stan would probably ground him if he did.

Thankfully, Grunkle Stan came to his rescue. The tour had just ended and he sauntered in through the door, counting the thick stack of green bills in his hand. When he saw Cooper, he stopped what he was doing and immediately interrupted the conversation. "Trying to arrest my nephew or something?" he asked, half joking. "Whatever he did, he didn't do it."

Coop straightened up and said to Stan, "Mr. Pines, I believe you offered me a tour to take a look around this place."

"What I believe I said," Stan replied, "was that I'll have no cops or agents sniffing around here without a warrant. If you want to pay for the same tour I give the tourists, that's fine by me. You'll also have to wait, because the next tour doesn't leave for fifteen more minutes. It could really delay your detective work."

"I don't mind. This Mystery Shack seems highly interesting in its own right."

"Uh-huh." Stan was not having as much luck dissuading Agent Cooper as he had hoped for. He took off his fez and held it in front of the sign advertising tours for ten dollars. "You know it costs fifty bucks, right?"

"I saw the sign, Mr. Pines. It's ten."

"Heh heh, what sign?" He sidestepped so that the whole thing was hidden behind him.

"Come to think of it, that sign also said that the next tour starts in…" he checked his watch, "six minutes. Mr. Pines, I know when I'm not wanted. I also know that you're making me awfully suspicious by trying to get rid of me." He turned to Dipper. "Perhaps I'll just talk to Dipper instead."

"Dipper?" Stan repeated, a little surprised and more than a little bothered. He thought his great-nephew had enough sense to keep his mouth shut, but now he was having second thoughts. "Kid, aren't you supposed to be picking out new games at the store? You'd better hurry up and do it before the lines get too long."

"Right," said Dipper. He tucked his book into the inside pocket of his vest and hopped out of his chair. Agent Cooper thought he saw something else, another book perhaps, in that pocket, but he couldn't be sure because the boy was soon out the door.

"Okay," Coop said, turning back to Mr. Mystery. "I guess it's just you and me then."

"I guess," the older man replied, placing the fez back on his head and stepping away from the sign. "You're a savvy customer, I'll give you that. You pay me ten bucks, and I'll give you the tour, but nothing else. You're wasting your time here anyway."

Dale reached into his wallet and pulled out a crisp ten dollar bill. He handed it to Stan Pines and said with a grin, "Oh, I'm quite certain I'm not."


	8. Secrets Real and Fake

The tour group assembled at the door of the Shack, with Agent Cooper remaining in the back of the cluster. Mr. Mystery adjusted his eyepatch and marched over to the ensemble of "suckers". "All right, that's it, tour's leaving now," he announced. "If anybody's still in the bathroom or whatever, too bad. Like I always say, we put the 'fun' in 'no refunds'!"

The tourists stared blankly at Stan, not sure how to react.

"Hey, lighten up a bit," he smiled, trying to act as friendly as possible. "It was a joke! Ha ha! This place is all about having a sense of humor."

A general sense of understanding seemed to enter the customers' heads and they all laughed along. All except for Agent Cooper, who was keeping a very watchful eye on Stan.

"See? All in fun." Stan opened the door and said, "Step right inside here for the first of many…mysterious artifacts." His voice changed as he said the word "mysterious" as if he was telling a ghost story. Coop pulled his notebook and pen out of his pocket, ready.

The group walked through the doorway, uttering hushed exclamations of wonder. Stan did not waste any time. He promptly directed the tourists to the right. "Behold, our first attraction…the Plaid-ypus!"

Pulling back a large, white sheet, Stan exposed a small, stuffed platypus wearing a kilt.

"Wow!"

"Oh my!"

"So amazing!"

Immediately, people started taking pictures of the strange creature. Agent Cooper, on the other hand, stood there in silent confusion. There was nothing mysterious about a stuffed platypus wearing a kilt. Anyone with a good understanding of puns could come up with that. This exhibit certainly had nothing to do with any of the strange signals the FBI had received. _The real mysteries must be later in the tour_ , he concluded.

Next, Stan led the group to a picture frame hanging on the wall, also covered by a sheet. "You've all heard the rumors," Mr. Mystery said, his voice hushed and intriguing. "Many have claimed to see it, but here, we at the Mystery Shack have very real, actual proof! Behold, Bigfoot!"

With a flourish, he pulled off the sheet, exposing a small, grainy photo of a large shape walking through the woods. "No flash on this one, please," he said as the tourists began taking out their cameras. "We wouldn't want to degrade the clearly remarkable quality of the image."

Agent Cooper walked up to the picture and examined it closely. There was nothing particularly Bigfoot-like about the figure depicted. It was something large and blurry, but nothing else was determinable. The chances of it actually being a picture of Bigfoot, or anything mysterious for that matter, were very slim. If only it weren't so tiny. Then he could be sure.

"Where did you see it?" a woman asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Oh, you know, it was…um…in the woods…somewhere. You know, the, uh, the part with all the trees. All right, next up…"

"Mr. Pines, is there a larger version of this photograph?" Coop interrupted.

Stan looked the FBI agent directly in the eyes. "No further questions until the end of the tour."

"But can you confirm that you personally saw Bigfoot in Gravity Falls?" he persisted, his pen and notebook in position to record the answer.

"I have the picture don't I?"

"But—"

"Save all questions for the end of the tour. Now, next up, we have a relic of the first people to live in this part of the world. You've all heard of dreamcatchers. Who hasn't? My niece made one out of yarn and glitter once. Sparkles wound up everywhere, and I do mean everywhere. Anyway, this is more than an ordinary dreamcatcher. Be warned, its dark power may be too much for the little ones you have with you. This is…the Hopes and Dreams Catcher!"

He unveiled what appeared to be a large dreamcatcher. The crowd gasped in horror as they noticed little pieces of paper trapped between its strings. They listed such things as student debt, dead end jobs, too many bills, and "Carla, where did you go?" One mother shielded her young son's eyes to protect his innocence.

"Now, before you freak out, don't worry," Stan explained. "It's supposed to catch the bad things and let the good things through. I think. So that stuff trapped there isn't going to hurt you." He shivered as he looked it over. "Gives you the creeps, doesn't it? I get depressed just looking at that thing. Let's…let's move on."

As the rest of the group followed Mr. Mystery to a happier part of the room, Agent Cooper hung back to take a closer look at the Hopes and Dreams Catcher. His first thought was how annoyed Hawk would probably be if he were here. His second thought was how unmysterious a dreamcatcher with slips of paper stuck into it was. That was literally all of it. Nothing special. Even the Bigfoot photo had better odds of being real.

As he studied the Hopes and Dreams Catcher, Coop noticed something written on the wall behind it. Several numbers were scratched into the wood. In a single glance, he could tell it was the wrong number of digits for a phone number, zip code, or even most street addresses. He leaned in to see it better and copied it down in his notebook: 5-4-23-10-15-5-10-9-4-1-16-23-4-16-19-5-19-19-11-5.

"No touching the exhibits!" Stan's gruff voice ordered as he waved his walking stick, topped with a magic eight ball, in front of the Hopes and Dreams Catcher.

Coop jerked his hands away. "I didn't touch it," he explained, "I was just looking at…"

"You bought a ticket for the tour," Stan reminded him, "so you stay with the tour. That's how it works. Now come on, or you'll miss…the Leopard-chaun!" He said the last word with a voice of enthusiasm and a flourish of his hand.

Agent Cooper looked at him. "Mr. Pines, the Leopard-chaun wouldn't happen to be a stuffed leopard dressed up like a leprechaun, would it?"

"Only one way to find out. This way, ladies and gentlemen!"

He led the group over to the Leopard-chaun. It was exactly what Agent Cooper had predicted: a stuffed leopard dressed up like a leprechaun. As usual, the tourists gawked and took pictures of the truly amazing specimen. The FBI agent hung back from the crowd. Aside from those weird numbers on the wall, nothing in the Mystery Shack seemed worthy of his investigation. As the tour continued, there was not one artifact or object that stood out to him as truly mysterious. It was pretty disappointing. Then again, he did have that number sequence, or whatever it was. That had to mean something. The tour finally concluded in the gift shop, where the tourists rushed to pick out their favorite merchandise. Instead of joining them, Agent Cooper approached the man in the fez and showed him the numbers he had written down.

"I noticed these numbers behind one of the exhibits," the agent said. "You wouldn't know if it has any meaning to it, would you?"

Stan gave it little more than a cursory glance. "That? It's just a bunch of random numbers. Never seen it in my life."

"But it was carved into your wall, Mr. Pines."

"You hallucinated it. Or the shadows in there played some tricks on you. I've got to get some of the lights fixed in there."

"Okay." Coop pocketed the notebook at looked Mr. Mystery in the eye. "Mr. Pines, you were correct about one thing: nothing on that tour convinced me of supernatural activity on this property."

Stan grinned amicably. "Hey, would I lie to you?"

"However," he continued, "if I were you, I would be careful. You are one false advertisement away from a serious case of fraud. Luckily, none of the exhibits you showed me, and I'm sure there are plenty you didn't, can be absolutely proven to be anything other than what you claim they are, especially since most of them are labeled as creatures you clearly completely made up. You may not be the cause of the mysterious activity I'm looking for, but don't think I won't have my eye on you, Mr. Pines."

Stan shrugged, almost as if in agreement. "Well, if you want to waste your time keeping an eye on me, be my guest. I'll sell you all the tour tickets and merchandise you want as long as you're here. But if you're not going to buy anything, the door's that way." He stuck his thumb in the door's direction to make his message even clearer. Before either of them could exchange more words, Stan noticed some parents holding up a snow globe above their small child's reach, while the child begged loudly to hold it. He ran over to assist, saying, "No, no, please give that fragile keepsake to your uncoordinated child. You break it, you buy it!"

Agent Cooper sighed and shook his head at the older man's behavior. One thing was for sure: Stan Pines would do anything for money. Would that include something releasing strong enough signals to alert the FBI? At this point, there was no telling.

Coop waved a friendly goodbye to Mr. Pines, though he barely noticed, and walked outside. Before heading to his car, he stopped and clicked on his tape recorder. "Diane," he said, "it is ten o'clock AM. After taking a tour of the Mystery Shack, I have concluded two things. First, the owner of said Shack, Mr. Stanford Pines, is a shyster bent on exploiting tourists for monetary gain. Second, though there was nothing on the tour suggesting supernatural activity, I still have a strong feeling that he is hiding something, whether or not it is relevant to the case. You know how I sometimes feel things like that, Diane, almost like intuition. It didn't fail me on the Laura Palmer case, and I don't believe it will fail me now. Nevertheless, it is no substitute for hard evidence in the eyes of the law. As I have found nothing yet, I have nothing to report and must continue searching both here and elsewhere in Gravity Falls. However, I will take one last look around the property. You will hear from me if I see anything worth noting." He clicked it off, stepped off the porch, and began walking a circle around the building.

He walked slowly, observing every detail of the walls and the trees surrounding them. Nothing really stood out. The walls were plain, except where signs pointing toward the gift shop hung. The trees were normal in every way, most of them hosting woodpeckers and other birds. Once he reached the back of the building, Coop paused and looked around. One part of the Shack's architecture caught his eye. High above his head, he saw a triangle-shaped window with a circle in the middle of it, almost like an eyeball. It was not particularly mysterious, but still unusual. The image looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on where he'd seen it before. He heard the sound of a golf cart rounding the corner and knew his time was limited. Quickly, he sketched a rough drawing of the shape in his notebook, then ran back into the woods behind the property, narrowly avoiding the attention of Soos, who was driving the golf cart while jamming to his favorite summer tunes. "Eat your own pants, eat your own pants, yeah!" he sang along. Coop raised an eyebrow, a bit confused by the lyrics, then took a few steps further back, just to make sure he wasn't noticed.

He backed straight into the rough bark of a tree. He quickly stepped aside, then realized that he had actually walked further into the woods than anticipated. He could still make out the shape of the Mystery Shack between the branches, but he was certainly off the Pines property. He looked up at the branches above him, crisscrossing over the bright blue sky. All was tranquil and at peace, just as he liked it. He figured he could spend a good amount of time in the woods and still find his way back in time for lunch. "Nothing like a walk in the great outdoors," he told himself cheerfully as he began to do exactly that.

The lack of a clear path did not make his walk difficult in the slightest. The trees were reasonably spaced out and it seemed like an area that was far from uncharted. Slowly, Coop began to feel like he was being watched. It was a gradual feeling, one that started small but eventually grew to a level he could not ignore. As he stepped carefully around an old tree, he looked in all directions for anyone—or anything—but found nothing. Instead, he found that in his vigilance he had neglected to look down. His feet tangled with the tree's roots and he nearly fell backwards, but caught himself at the last moment. He stood up straight again, catching his breath and placing his hand on the tree's trunk for balance.

He pulled his hand away and looked at the tree strangely. It did not feel like bark. What he had touched was cold, hard metal. Curious, Agent Cooper placed his hand back on the trunk and slid it around, feeling out the area. The metal only covered a small rectangle of space. He dug his fingers into the edge of the rectangle and pulled, opening it like a door. Inside, Coop found a strange, old contraption. It resembled an old radio set of some kind, but it had a very unique design that the FBI agent could not recognize. It was too covered in cobwebs and dust to function in the slightest, but there were two switches sticking up on top of it. Knowing he was onto something now, Agent Cooper flipped one of the switches.

Suddenly, he heard a metallic screeching noise. He spun around and saw that another metal triangle had opened on the ground, revealing a secret underground compartment. Coop knelt down and peered into it, but found it empty of anything other than more cobwebs and dust. "No one makes a secret compartment for nothing," he reasoned. "Something was here, and someone took it out."

Glancing up, he could still see the Mystery Shack's roof. There were only a few individuals with easy access to this part of the woods. He stood up and clicked on his tape recorder again. "Diane, my suspicions are confirmed. The Mystery Shack has a secret."

 **(A/N: Oh, Coop, you have no idea what you're getting into, do you? I realized after I started writing that most people just write Bob instead of BOB. I'm not sure where I saw it all capitalized, but I know I saw it somewhere. I don't know when he'll be mentioned again, but I'll decide which way to write it when it comes up. Also, I may need to come up with some creative excuses to keep Coop technologically behind. He wasn't super high-tech in TP to begin with, and imagining 1991 Coop with a smartphone of any kind feels wrong. If they update the tech in the new season, that would work because he would have aged too, but for only 4 years later, it's weird. I don't know what excuses I'll use, but he's definitely going to be reliant on the same devices he always used. It's just part of him being, well, Coop. Anyway, thanks so much for reading! This is my only fic now, so I should be updating more often!)**


	9. The Strangest Ones Know the Most

Sheriff Blubs sat back lazily in his chair, sipping his coffee slowly. "Durland," he asked, "when was the last time we went fishing?"

Durland pulled his head of his notebook, wherein he was solving another puzzle. "Gosh darn it, Blubs, I don't know," he replied in his customary country accent. "You thinkin' about goin'?"

"Maybe. How does…the first week of August sound?"

Durland dropped his notebook and pencil and jumped up in surprise. "Blubs! That's when my birthday is!"

Blubs looked over the rim of his sunglasses at him and said, "I know."

The deputy hollered with glee. "Yippee! I can't wait! You're a genius, Blubs!"

"Durland, the most genius decision I ever made was spending time with you," the sheriff replied before taking another long, slow sip of coffee.

Just then, a hunched, thin, scraggly-looking man burst through the door, making Blubs nearly spit out his coffee in surprise. The old man looked like a gold miner, with his beard, overalls, and old hat. His feet were bare other than one bandage on each, an accessory also shared by one of his arms and a small section of his beard. "Yeehoo!" he exclaimed. "I'm here!"

"McGucket!" Blubs responded, standing up suddenly. "What are you doing here, you crazy old man?"

"Eh?" Old Man McGucket looked up at him, then Durland, then spun around as if searching for something. "I seen him," he repeated. "I seen him. I seen him on the TV."

Blubs glanced over at Durland. "He making any sense to you?"

"Not a bit," Durland replied, scratching his head.

At this point, McGucket had given up looking for whatever he wanted to find with his eyes and began sniffing around for it instead, almost like a hunting dog. He climbed over chairs, desks, and any other obstruction, sticking his nose wherever it could fit. "Where is he?" he asked as he went, between spurts of seemingly insane laughter. "Where is he? I know he's here!"

Finally, the sheriff had had enough. He reached over, grabbed McGucket's overall straps, and pulled the old man away from the table he was standing on. "Now why don't you start telling us what this is all about, McGucket?" he asked sternly. "This is a working police station and we don't want to waste any time on any of your silly shenanigans."

McGucket looked down. "Oh, I—I apologize," he said, slightly more coherently than before. "I just got so excited I forgot my manners."

"That's okay, McGucket," Blubs said calmly. "Now why don't you…"

Before he could finish, someone else walked through the door, letting it swing behind him as he entered. "Hello, gentlemen!" Agent Cooper greeted them cheerfully. "You will not believe what I—"

"There he is!" Old Man McGucket proclaimed. He scampered over to the FBI agent and shook his hand so hard Coop worried it might fall off. "Fiddleford Hadron McGucket!" he introduced himself enthusiastically. "Inventor, nutcase, and raccoon whisperer! I heard your message on the TV when that reporter lady asked you about the mysteries of Gravity Falls!"

"My message?" Coop asked, still unable to pull away from his grip.

"Yee-up! You said to report anything strange we've seen 'round these parts! Said it right into the camera!" He finally let go of the agent's hand to do a funny hillbilly dance. "Yeehoo!"

"Oh! Of course," Agent Cooper said as he remembered his conversation with Shandra Jimenez. "Is there something you'd like to report, Mr. McGucket?"

The old man straightened up and grabbed Coop's shoulders, shaking them as he shouted, "Everything! It's all true! Dreams! Nightmares! Memories! All of it! I seen it! It's all real!"

Coop gently removed McGucket's hands from his shoulders and asked calmly, "What is real, Mr. McGucket?"

"I told you! Everything! All of it!"

"You'll have to be a bit more specific."

Sheriff Blubs stepped between the agent and the inventor abruptly, breaking off the strange conversation. "You won't get any answers from him, Agent Cooper," he said. "McGucket's as crazy as they come. Every time he comes in here, he's either lying or seeing things."

"That ain't true!" McGucket insisted, hopping from one bare foot to the either in frustration.

Agent Cooper peered around the sheriff's side to look at the funny old man. He immediately remembered the Log Lady and his own hesitance to listen to her. "I don't know, Blubs," he said. "I've found that sometimes it's the strangest people who know the most."

"Not him," Blubs shook his head. "I've known him for nearly thirty years, and I can't remember hearing one sane word come out of his mouth."

Durland nodded from behind his desk. "He's cuckoo bonkers!" he agreed.

Old Man McGucket finally pushed his way around Sheriff Blubs. He knelt down on his knees and clasped his hands together in front of Agent Cooper. "Please!" he pleaded. "You gotta believe me! Something big is coming! Or, did it already? I don't know, but it's big! Why it could…it could destroy everything!"

"What is it, McGucket?" Coop asked, earnestly interested.

"The apocalypse! The end times! Monsters! Eyeballs! Chaos! Everything we know could change!"

Coop now took a knee so that he was on the same level as McGucket. "How do you know these things?" he asked.

Blubs shook his head disapprovingly. "Don't encourage him, Agent Cooper. His brain is completely fried. Nothing coming from it makes any sense."

Old Man McGucket looked up at the sheriff, then down at the floor, as if ashamed. Coop placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, McGucket. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I'm looking for answers, and I'll take any I can get."

The old inventor cracked a smile, showing off his gold tooth. "Really?"

"Yup," Coop nodded. "Go right ahead."

Blubs again shook his head and stepped back until he was leaning against the wall beside Durland. He could warn Agent Cooper not to take Old Man McGucket seriously, but he couldn't make him ignore him. McGucket spoke much more calmly now, though still visibly excited. "I don't remember what it was," he explained, "but there was somethin' thirty years ago. It was terribibble…I mean terrible. Terrible. The laptop started counting down."

"What laptop?" Coop asked.

"Why, this here…aw donkey spittle!" he groaned. "I forgots it at the dump! I knowed I was missing something. But it started counting down. Then the earth started a-shakin' and the houses started a-floatin'…"

"The earthquake," the FBI agent surmised.

"…and then it stopped. It was supposed to count down until the end. But the timer…it ran out! It's the beginning of the end. Or the end of the beginning. Or the middle of nothing. Or everything." He unclasped his hands and stared Coop straight in the eyes. "It has been opened, and something has come through. There ain't no tellin' what comes next!"

"What has been opened?" Coop asked him. "What came through?"

McGucket threw his hands into the air. "I don't rightly know! Something big!"

"That's enough from you, crazy hillbilly," Blubs interrupted, pulling the old man aside and toward the door. "We've got real police business to attend to. Why don't you go back home to the dump?"

Coop stood up immediately, clearly unhappy about the policeman's behavior. "I see no reason for that. He may have valuable information for my case."

"Your case is foolish enough as it is," Blubs returned. "You heard him. He doesn't even know what it is he's trying to report. You'd be better off asking some sane citizens around here. I'd introduce you to them myself if I have to. But you just can't take this guy seriously!"

Agent Cooper looked from Blubs to McGucket, then back to Blubs again. "Sheriff, I've seen many strange things in my past investigations. I've always been an open-minded man, but there have been things even I would never have believed that I have been forced to confront as part of my job. Some of them took a lot of time for anyone involved to understand, even me. Therefore, I can see no benefit in disregarding anyone's testimony at first glance, no matter who it's from."

"No, no, it's all right," Old Man McGucket said, breaking up what was beginning to feel like a potentially very tense argument. "Nobody never listens to me nohow. There's no reason to expect any different this time. I'll go and let y'all go about your business. If'n you ever want," he added, pointing at Agent Cooper, "you can come on down to the dump and talk to me some more. It's always so nice to have visitors. And I can show you the laptop then, too!"

"It's a deal," Coop agreed, punctuating his statement with a thumbs-up.

Blubs, now very relieved to be done with Old Man McGucket, escorted him to the door. As he opened it, a bucket full of fresh, multicolored paint fell off the roof and landed on the sheriff's head, covering him in bright shades of pink, green, yellow, and turquoise. McGucket screeched in terror and scampered away into the bushes. Durland and Cooper immediately ran out to see what had happened.

"Blubs! Are you all right?" Durland asked.

"Darn teenagers!" Blubs bellowed, shaking his fist at the sky.

Coop looked around and saw a minivan driving away in the distance, accompanied by the sound of raucous laughter. "Teenagers?" he repeated.

"They're always tryin' to prank us," Durland explained. He grabbed the bucket and pulled it off Blubs's head, falling clumsily onto his back in the process.

As Coop helped the deputy back to his feet, Blubs told him, "They're just a bunch of crazy kids trying to stir up trouble. We'll get them one of these days." He looked down at his soaked, colorful uniform. "Looks like it's laundry day again," he sighed. He turned to Agent Cooper, wiped some of the paint off his sunglasses, and said, "You know what? I think we started off on the wrong foot. There's no need for us to argue about everything. Clearly, we've got our differences in practice, but we ought to at least try to get along if we're going to work together. Why don't we grab some pie over at Greasy's Diner once I'm all cleaned up and get to know each other a bit better, huh?"

"Blubs," Coop replied, "you had me at 'pie'."

"Good." Blubs looked at his uniform again and added, "It may take a while. This is some high quality paint." He walked back into the police station, leaving a bright trail of wet paint with each step. Durland ran in after him, only to slip on one of the paint puddles and land flat on his back again.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed as he slid, dragging even more paint along with him. "Watch out, Blubs!"

The deputy finally crashed into the sheriff. The mess by this point was all over the floor. Agent Cooper stood in the doorway, surveying all the damage. "Gentlemen," he finally said after a long pause, "where is your mop?"


	10. Lies and Pies

Between cleaning off Blubs, Durland, and the entire police station floor, it was several hours before the law enforcement trio made it to Greasy's Diner for that slice of pie. Or, in Coop's case, slices. As they ate, Blubs decided to strike up conversation.

"So, Agent Cooper," he asked, "where exactly are you from?"

"The Philadelphia area originally," he answered, "but I haven't been there in a while. The bureau sends its agents all over the place. Lazy Susan," he added as the diner's owner passed him behind the counter, "a cup of coffee, please. Black as the darkest obsidian. And another slice of this cherry pie, if you don't mind."

Lazy Susan picked up his now empty plate. "One coffee and slice number three coming right up," she smiled as she walked away.

Blubs looked Coop up and down. "How you can eat so much and still be in such good shape?"

"A fair question," the agent replied cheerily. "I like to credit a regimen of meditation, exercise, and an active mind. Of course, a naturally fast metabolism is always a plus. Thank you, Susan," he said as a fresh plate of pie and a mug full of black coffee landed in front of him.

"I met a guy from Philly once," Blubs commented as he took another bite of his own pie. "He stayed in Gravity Falls for a bit. He was a pretty strange guy, if I remember correctly. Don't remember why he was here. I think he said something about the military, but I forget. Durland, you remember that guy's name? You know, the one who had that thing about caves?"

"Hm…" Durland thought hard before responding, "I can't recall his last name, but I think his first was Win-something…"

"Windom Earle!" Blubs exclaimed, his memory suddenly returning.

Involuntarily, Coop dropped his fork and sat straight up. He stared at Blubs for a moment, then asked, "How…what…what was he doing here?"

"Oh, not much," Blubs shrugged. He took another bite of his pie, oblivious to the concerned look on Coop's face. "He was in town for about a week many years ago. He was a researcher, he said. I guess he didn't find what he was looking for, since nobody heard from him after he left. Heh, I suppose I only remember him because he was such a strange guy. Insisted on exploring every single cave in the area. Weirdo." He paused, then asked, "You know him?"

"No," Agent Cooper lied, looking back down at his third slice and focusing entirely on it. "Philadelphia's a big city."

Blubs nodded understandingly. "Must be nice. Around here, everybody knows everybody."

"That's part of the appeal of small towns," Coop said, picking up his fork again and continuing to eat his pie. "I always like the feel of them. They're so friendly and genuine."

"You been in a lot of small towns?" the sheriff asked.

Coop hesitated before answering, "Well, sort of. I was assigned to one in Washington, close to the Canadian border. It was a pretty special little place, I'll tell you that."

"Well, I hate to disappoint you," Blubs said, "but Gravity Falls isn't very special. That Windom Earle guy didn't think so, and neither has anyone else since."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Blubs," Agent Cooper said, pulling out his notebook. "I know you keep saying that there's no mystery here, but I found some things in and near the Mystery Shack today that point toward something unusual. I can't say what yet, but there's definitely something going on there."

Blubs chuckled. "Are we really going through this again? Stanford Pines has been living there for thirty years, and all he's ever done is run a tourist attraction. Ask anybody!"

Durland added, "And it's a nice tourist attraction too! The Plaid-ypus is my favorite!"

The sheriff looked over at his deputy with a warm smile. "Durland, you have exquisite taste. You know what I used to love at the Mystery Shack before they got rid of it?"

"What, Blubs?" Durland asked. "The wax people?"

"Naw, those gave me the creeps. I always liked the Corn-icorn."

Durland gasped aloud. "Me too! It was so amazing!"

While the sheriff and deputy continued reminiscing about their favorite Mystery Shack exhibits, Agent Cooper drank his extra black coffee and studied his findings in his notebook. First, his dream had given him the string of letters. Next, he had seen the string of numbers in the Shack. Then, there was that window. He could not think why it stood out to him, but there had to be a reason. Last of all, there was that secret compartment in the woods. What did it all mean?

He heard the door swing open behind him and turned his head to see Dipper Pines walk in. He sat in a booth and placed a large box on the table, slumping over disappointedly. Something about the boy's body language gave the agent a feeling that he could use some company. _Besides_ , the agent thought, _he may know something_. "Excuse me, gentlemen," Coop said. He stood up, still carrying his coffee mug, and walked over to where the lone boy sat, leaving the other two to continue talking to each other as if he had never existed.

"Hello, Dipper," he said with a friendly grin. "Mind if I join you?"

Dipper looked up, surprised. "Oh…oh yeah, sure. Be my guest, man."

"Okay." Agent Cooper slid into the other side of the booth. "What are you doing here all alone?"

"I bought a game at the store," Dipper replied, "but apparently everyone else thinks it's too nerdy to play. Mabel says it has too much math, Soos is more into FCLORP, whatever that means, and Grunkle Stan just finds the whole thing ridiculous. Wendy comes in here a lot, so I thought I'd ask her to play it with me, but she's not here, so now I guess I'll head back…"

"What game is it?" Coop asked before the boy could leave.

Dipper turned the box around so the top graphics faced Agent Cooper. The man's face lit up. "Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons!" he exclaimed. "I remember playing that when I was a kid!"

"Really?" Dipper couldn't believe it. For the first time today, somebody else actually liked his favorite game. Even better, it was the FBI agent who he'd been so interested in before. "That's awesome! Literally nobody else was interested in it besides me."

"Absolutely shameful," Coop said, shaking his head. "Then again, I did lose interest a bit when the designers decided to make it 'cooler'."

"Probabilitizzle?" Dipper asked.

The FBI agent nodded. "Probabilitizzle. It's supposed to be a game about magic, not…whatever that was."

Dipper let out a low whistle. "The nineties must have been a weird time."

"Oh, they were," Agent Cooper agreed. "Plenty of strange things were made around then. Some of them great masterpieces, and some of them more like Probabilitizzle."

"I hear you." Dipper looked down at the mystical graphics of the game's box. "Thankfully, they went back to the classic fantasy style. They updated all the spells and monsters for the newest version, too."

"Oh really?" Coop asked. "Did they bring back the Impossibeast?"

"No way!" Dipper assured him. "They'd never bring that one back. They want the game to be challenging, not impossible."

"Good." Agent Cooper paused to take another sip of his coffee, then continued, "It looks like a fine game. I'm sure you'll find someone to play it with you."

Dipper looked up hopefully. "What about you? Would you want to play it with me?"

Agent Cooper hesitated, honestly tempted, but knew he had to refuse. "I'm sorry, Dipper," he said, "but Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons can last for days, weeks even. I'm here on an investigation. I may have some leisure time, but not nearly enough for that." He paused, then added, "Speaking of the investigation, didn't you say you liked mysteries?"

"Yeah, I think so," the boy replied. "Why?"

Agent Cooper looked around the diner. Lazy Susan was back in the kitchen, the sheriff and deputy were still discussing old Mystery Shack exhibits, and the only other customers were a couple of bikers at the far end of the counter. He placed his notebook on the table so that the numbers and letters faced Dipper. "Have you ever seen either of these patterns before?" he asked.

Dipper scooted forward in his seat and studied them both closely for a few moments. "No," he answered finally. "At least, I don't think so. What are they?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," the agent told him. "The letters were given to me in a dream, and the numbers were carved into one of the walls of the Mystery Shack. I thought perhaps you would have at least seen that one, but—"

"Hold up," Dipper stopped him. "You saw these letters in a dream?"

"Well," Coop clarified, "not exactly. I had a dream that I believe was warning me about something in Gravity Falls, though I'm not yet certain what, and when I awoke, those letters were in my head, in that order. I know it sounds crazy, but in my experience, dreams can be a lot more helpful than most people think. Many messages are passed through the dreamscape." He caught himself, then added self-deprecatingly, "That made absolutely no sense, did it?"

"Wait a minute," Dipper said. "Did you just say 'dreamscape'?"

Cooper blinked, surprised, then replied, "Yes, I did. Why? Have you heard of it?"

Now it was Dipper's turn to look around for listening ears. The diner was still mostly empty, besides Lazy Susan, Blubs, Durland, those random biker guys, himself, and Agent Cooper. He had more than heard of the dreamscape. He had experienced it. He knew that a lot more than just messages could pass through the dreamscape. _But how does Agent Cooper know about it?_ Dipper wondered. _If he knows about the dreamscape, he could already know about Bill. Heck, he could even be working for Bill. Or not. He could be just like me, with similar experiences. Either way, he isn't like those other agents. There's more to him than meets the eye. He seems nice and trustworthy enough, but the things I know about Bill and the dreamscape are too important to risk getting out, especially to a government agent. I shouldn't tell him. At least, not until I know whose side he's on_.

"No," the boy quickly lied. "I just thought it sounded interesting."

"Oh, okay." Agent Cooper had a feeling Dipper wasn't being completely honest, and couldn't help being a bit disappointed. The mystery-loving boy reminded him of himself when he was young, at least a bit. Still, he knew now was not the time to press the issue. Making Dipper get defensive would be of no help to anyone. He tried to remain outwardly cheerful. "Well, however I found them, they probably mean something. You're sure you've never seen them before?"

Dipper shook his head, this time being honest. "I don't know what to tell you, man. They don't make any sense to me." Feeling a little bad for lying to the very friendly man, Dipper decided to give the letters and numbers one more look. "Hm…they could be cipher."

"A what?"

"A cipher. Like a code. There are a lot of them out there. I think Atbash and Caesarian are the most common, but there are plenty more, some I haven't even heard of. If I were you, I'd try a few of those out and see if any of them make sense."

Coop took the notebook back and looked at the numbers and letters himself. "A cipher. Brilliant. Thank you, Dipper. You may be onto something."

"No problem." He picked up his game and added as he slid out of the booth, "I guess I'll head home and try to find someone else to play this game with me. Hopefully it doesn't come to Gompers and Waddles, but I might be desperate enough."

The agent looked confused. "Gompers and Waddles?"

"Stan's pet goat and Mabel's pet pig," Dipper explained. "Well, see you later, Agent Cooper!"

"See you later, Dipper!" he waved back as the boy walked away. "Oh, and Dipper," he added, stopping him as he began to open the door.

"Yeah?"

"I know a budding conspiracy theorist when I see one," Coop told him. "There's a lot more to this world than anyone knows. Never assume."

Dipper nearly dropped the box in his hands. That was the most encouraging thing he had heard since Ford had returned from his interdimensional travels. "Wow," he said, his voice cracking embarrassingly. "I mean, um, thanks. Whoa!" he exclaimed as he stumbled through the swinging door and was almost hit by it on the way out.

Agent Cooper smiled and drank his hot, black coffee. He liked Dipper. Dipper was a good kid. A good kid who definitely hiding something, but still a good kid. The FBI agent could already tell they were going to be seeing a lot of each other, and, he hoped, were on track to becoming good friends.


	11. A Visitation

**(A/N: There was a conversation between Blubs and Coop that I had meant to write into the last chapter, but I forgot, so I'm starting this chapter with it instead. I think it still fits, but if it doesn't, just pretend they had it in the diner earlier. Anyway, Cooper's about to get a visit from someone I'm sure you've been looking forward to seeing...)**

Eventually, Blubs, Durland, and Cooper returned to the police station. For the next several hours, Durland sat at his desk failing miserably at a fairly simple puzzle while Blubs reorganized case files in the back room. Meanwhile, Agent Cooper stayed in the conference room, studying the ciphers carefully from his notebook. The sheriff peeked in after a while to see how things were going. "Say, uh, Coop? It's getting late. Are you still looking at that nonsense?"

"Yes I am, Blubs," Coop replied, barely looking up. "Dipper said it could be a cipher. I've tried the ones I know, but none of them made sense. Maybe it's a combined cipher…"

"Whoo," Blubs sighed. "Is this how you usually spend your time?"

"A good portion of it."

"You have really got to get a girlfriend," the sheriff joked. He chuckled, then added, "Or boyfriend. This is Oregon, we're open-minded people."

"I appreciate that," Coop smiled, "but I assure you I am only interested in women."

"Well," Blubs asked, "do you have one?"

"Have what?"

"A girlfriend."

"No." He closed up the notebook, then deflected, "How long have you been romantically interested in Durland, by the way?"

Blubs balked. He glanced behind him to make sure his deputy was not listening, then stepped fully inside the conference room. "And how would you know about that?" he asked, his voice lowered so Durland wouldn't hear it.

"Body language," Coop stated matter-of-factly.

"Really? That's it?"

"It's a dead giveaway, Blubs, if you know how to read it. Durland's isn't quite as clear as yours, but I'd be willing to bet he's interested too. Don't worry, this is Oregon. We're open-minded here."

Blubs adjusted his hat. "Well, well, well," he said. "It looks like we have a regular Sherlock Holmes in the room."

Agent Cooper stood up and began to write the string of numbers from the Mystery Shack on the blackboard next to the string of letters. "Thanks for the compliment, Sheriff. Hopefully I'll live up to it by unlocking this case."

The shorter man groaned. "Are you ever going to realize that there's nothing here to unlock?"

"Nope." He finished writing and placed the piece of chalk neatly in its place. "Not for a while, anyway."

"Well, I guess you'll just have to figure it out for yourself, then. If you're smart enough to read my body language, you're smart enough to realize when you're chasing nothing." The sheriff paused, then asked, "So a friendly, attractive, highly intelligent FBI agent can't get a girlfriend?"

"I didn't say can't. I just don't. It's for the best."

That lasts sentence caught Blubs's attention. "For the best? How so?"

Coop tried to maintain his usual cheerful façade, but even Blubs could tell that there was a sad look in his eyes. "Because I have a habit of failing the people I care about most, and they have a habit of being hurt because of it," he replied. "Is there anything else you would like to know?"

Sensing he had touched a nerve, Blubs backed off. "No, no, just trying to get to know you better. I'm sorry for…"

"Don't worry about it," Coop said, cutting him off in the closest thing to coldness that Blubs had ever heard from him. It still wasn't very close. The difficult topic now exhausted, the agent relaxed visibly, then said, "It won't do me any good to stay up all night. I think I'll head back to the hotel and catch some shuteye. Probably meditate a bit too. Maybe sleeping on it is just what these codes need."

Blubs raised one eyebrow skeptically. "So you can hear what the Dalai Lama has to say about them?"

"Maybe," Coop answered, taking his sarcastic question completely seriously. "You never know."

He left the police station and drove back to the Woodpecker Inn. Upon arriving, he headed straight to the elevator, pressed the button for the sixth floor, and leaned against its side as he waited. The numbers above the door passed by slowly. 1, 2, 3…

Coop sighed. He knew it was a bad idea, but he took out his wallet anyway. That talk with Blubs had stirred a few memories. He thumbed through the photos again. By now, he knew he'd seen them all a million times. It didn't matter. There was Josie batting her eyes at a very embarrassed Harry. This one featured Pete winning twelve chess games at once while his rivals scratched their heads in confusion. He stopped at the next picture. It wasn't one he had taken. Denise had taken it, then given it to him with several teasing remarks. It was of him and Audrey Horne dancing together at the Milford wedding. They both looked so relaxed and genuinely happy. He had been greatly disturbed by Annie's death upon emerging from the Black Lodge, but he had never expected his absence to hurt Audrey. She was so young and innocent. The elevator stopped on the sixth floor and he stuffed the photos back into his wallet. The memories could wait.

He walked down the hall until he reached Room 618, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. Housekeeping had come in since he had left, and everything was neat and clean, as he liked it. He sat down on the bed and clicked on his tape recorder. "Diane, it is 9:15 pm," he said as he took off his shoes. "I am back in Room 618 in the Woodpecker Inn. I have yet to find any answers to my many questions about the Pines property and the message from my dream. I spoke to Dipper Pines, who believes that the numbers and letters could be a cipher, or a code. I plan to meditate on that tonight and continue studying it tomorrow morning. Dipper is keeping a secret from me, Diane. I don't know what it is, but I'm sure it ties into the mystery of this town somehow. However, I did not press the issue or ask him about the secret compartment in the woods. He needs to trust me first, a need I fully respect. Of course, that need is practically confirmation that whatever he is hiding is sensitive information." He paused as he stood up to properly hang up his suit jacket and tie in the closet, then returned to his seat to add, "Diane, there is something else that is frustrating me. Remember when I told you about that shape on the Mystery Shack window? It seems of little importance, but it feels like it has been burned into my brain. I cannot recall ever seeing it before, but it also seems so familiar, like I've seen it every day. I suppose that's another thing to meditate on tonight, isn't it? Well, enough rambling from me. Goodnight, Diane."

He clicked off the recorder and changed into his pajamas. Next, he headed to the bathroom. As he brushed his teeth, a stream of toothpaste accidentally squirted into the sink. He bent down to wash it down the drain, then looked up at himself in the mirror. Chills went down his spine. _Is it still déjà vu if it happened when someone else was controlling your body?_ he wondered, half disturbed and half honestly curious. He shrugged the feeling off, checked his perfectly smooth hair, and exited the bathroom.

It was meditation time. Coop sat cross-legged on the bed, eyes shut, with one hand resting on each knee. He inhaled and exhaled deeply and slowly, trying to clear his mind. It always took a moment for his very active mind to completely settle, but tonight felt especially challenging. The image of the Mystery Shack window kept appearing in his mind. It was a triangle with an eye in the middle. What was so important about that? Instead of pushing the image out, he began to focus on it, trying to understand it. _What are you?_ he silently asked.

Agent Cooper felt something change around him. It was like a wind had swept through his surroundings, despite being completely indoors. He opened his eyes to see that everything else had lost all color other that varying shades of black, white, and gray, and it was not quite as defined as the real world usually was. He, however, was in full color…as was the strange entity floating in the air right in front of him.

"Well, well, well," the small, golden triangle said, despite his lack of a mouth, "Special Agent Dale Cooper, we meet at last." His voice sounded kind of similar to Gordon Cole's, but with multiple layers, as if someone had taken Gordon's voice and mixed it with itself.

Coop stared straight at the triangle. He had one eye, just like the Mystery Shack window. He also had arms, legs, a bowtie, a top hat, and a cane. As usual when dealing with supernatural beings appearing to him in the dreamscape, Agent Cooper remained outwardly calm, though his mind was filled with endless questions. "You're the picture from the Mystery Shack window," he concluded aloud.

The triangle snapped his fingers. "Right you are! I know I've been on your brain lately, so I thought I'd pay a visit." He floated closer to Coop until he was standing in front of him on his bed. The agent was surprised by how small he actually was. "Gotta admit, I was pretty excited when I heard you were coming to town. If any guy in this dimension is worthy of my attention, it's Dale Cooper."

"What exactly makes me worthy of your attention?" Coop asked.

"Good question!" Agent Cooper was startled to hear the triangle's voice coming from his left shoulder, where the strange being was suddenly sitting. He stretched his thin, black arm all the way around until it touched Coop's opposite shoulder. "The truth is, I'm a muse. I look for brilliant, gifted minds so I can show them all the ways of the universe." When he said "universe", his yellow coloring changed to an image of outer space and faraway galaxies and his voice echoed. He changed back to plain yellow as he continued, "You're a gifted guy, Coop. You see things a lot of people can't, or don't. I can help you out."

"So," Coop asked the little triangle on his shoulder, "do you know anything about ciphers?"

"Ha ha ha!" the triangle laughed. He disappeared, then reappeared leaning on Coop's right knee. "Of course I do! Cipher's my middle name! Aw, I'm just kidding. It's my last name. Bill Cipher, at your service, but you can call me Bill!" He tipped his little top hat to Coop in salutation.

"Okay," Coop said. He wasn't quite sure what to make of Bill Cipher. He was unlike any supernatural being the agent had come into contact with before, and he had come into contact with a lot of supernatural beings. "What exactly are you, Bill?"

"What am I?" Bill repeated. "What am I? There's the question of the day. Like I said, I'm a muse, but you're a smart guy, so of course you want to know more than that." He flew away from Coop's knee and stopped in midair, standing as if on the ground. "I am a force of nature," he explained. "I am an ancient being of ultimate power and knowledge. I have the answer to every question and the question for every answer. I come from beyond this realm, and I see all." When he finished that last sentence, his voice deepened and he suddenly grew to a much larger size, to the point that his eyeball was half the size of Coop's entire body. It was intimidating to say the least. His voice then returned to normal, but his size remained large. "I even know about you, Coop!"

Agent Cooper had a sinking feeling, the same he usually had when someone brought up his past. "How much do you know about me, exactly?" he asked, trying not to betray his discomfort.

"LOTS OF THINGS," Bill said, his voice this time both deeper and louder as a series of images flashed rapidly on his triangular body. Before Coop could react, Bill shrunk down to his normal size with his normal voice and began to list things off. "I know that your name is Dale Bartholomew Cooper, you were born thirty-nine years ago in a hospital in Philadelphia, you started going by 'Coop' in high school, you graduated from Haverford College, and you have worked for the FBI regional offices in Philadelphia, Oakland, and now Portland. When you were sixteen, you almost got arrested for trespassing while trying to track down extraterrestrials that turned out to be a couple of raccoons, you started drinking black coffee at eighteen and still can't stand putting any sweeteners in it, your favorite donut is jelly, you've traveled all around the country but have somehow never been to Florida, and you used to wonder if the moon landing really was faked but now you're pretty sure it wasn't. Might want to double check that one, by the way. Want to know exactly when and how you're going to die too? It's actually a really interesting story…"

"I'm good," Coop stopped him. Bill Cipher clearly knew a lot about him, but nothing he had mentioned involved Twin Peaks, Windom Earle, the Black Lodge, or anything too recent. That didn't mean he didn't know it. Even if he didn't, Coop wasn't super comfortable with how much else the one-eyed triangle did know.

"Suit yourself," Bill said, twirling his cane. "You'll find out eventually anyway. The point is, Coop, I know you've got questions about this town. If you let me, I can answer all them, plus show you all the secrets of this dimension and beyond. Are you…interested?" As he said that last word, his voice deepened again, and his right hand was suddenly covered in blue flames. He extended his hand to Agent Cooper for him to shake.

"Um…" Coop started to move his hand toward Bill, but hesitated. He had an ominous feeling inside. Bill's offer was extremely tempting. However, in his experience, supernatural beings usually weren't this upfront with their intentions. What did he really know about this Bill Cipher? Not enough. He slowly rested his hand back down on his knee, refusing the deal.

Bill seemed surprised to say the least. He pulled his hand away and clenched it into a fist. For a brief moment, the blue flames covered his whole body while his one mode of expression, his eyeball, looked very angry. It barely lasted a second, because he immediately returned to his calm, yellow state. "You want to wait a bit, huh? I get it," he said, leaning casually on his cane. "You just got here, and you want to get your bearings. Sure, why not? It's not like the secrets of the universe are going anywhere."

"I'm glad you're so understanding," Coop nodded.

Bill replied, "Wouldn't be much of a muse if I didn't, would I? I've got a trillion years of patience! You'll come around," he said as he began flying circles around Coop's head, "and when you do, you'll know how to find me…or I'll find you!"

Coop felt the air around him move again and opened his eyes. Everything was back in color. Bill Cipher was nowhere to be seen. He checked the clock. Hardly any time had passed. What had just happened? Was it even real? Was it a dream? Was it both? Or neither?

He looked down at right his hand and saw that something was written on it. He lifted it up and saw a message: THE DREAM WAS REAL. LOOK AT YOUR OTHER HAND.

Coop obeyed and found that the edge of his hand had been traced, with a beak and an eye drawn on his thumb. Another message in the middle of it read: HEY LOOK, A TURKEY!

"Well, that answers that question," he said aloud. "But there's still a lot I don't know about Bill…Bill…wait a minute…" A thought popped into his mind. He knew why the triangle with an eye looked so familiar. He took his wallet off the bedside table and pulled out a dollar bill. _Bill, like Bill Cipher_ , he realized. There, on the side of the bill, was a picture of a pyramid with a single, illuminated eye. "The Eye of Providence!" he exclaimed. "Of course! He's right in my wallet!"

He set his wallet aside, reached for his tape recorder, and turned it on, "Diane, I have just been visited by an entity known as Bill Cipher, who I now believe is at the heart of the mystery of Gravity Falls. First thing tomorrow morning, I'm heading to the library. I have a lot of research to do…"


	12. An Old Friend

**(A/N: Hey everyone! In case you were wondering how I figured out Coop's age for last chapter, I found out that he was supposed to be 35-ish in the series and just added 4 years to that. I thought he was closer to his early thirties or late twenties, but I guess that makes sense since he already had some history with the FBI. Also, I didn't realize before that the Plaidypus is actually a thing mentioned in Journal 3. I kind of want to write it in now, but we'll see how that goes, haha. Now, here's a super long chapter featuring someone you've probably missed...)**

True to his word, Coop was at the Gravity Falls Public Library first thing in the morning. Well, first thing after a quick donut run anyway. He burst through the doors and found the librarian's desk, where there was thankfully no line.

"Hi," he greeted the librarian. "I'm looking for books on secret societies, local legends, or both. The weirder the better. It's extremely important."

The librarian stared at him for a second, then replied completely stoically, "That would be the third bookshelf from the back."

"Thank you," he said as he left to find it.

The third bookshelf from the back held hundreds of books. Coop skimmed the titles on the spines. " _Secrets of the Pacific Northwest_ ," he read aloud, pulling the book with that title off the shelf. "A book on evidence for the supernatural in the region. Perfect." Next, he picked one out called _Hidden in Plain Sight: A History of Conspiracy Theories in America_. He found a few more that seemed relevant. One was about Native American legends, one was on the topic of ancient secret societies, and one was simply called _The Founding and Settling of Gravity Falls_. Just before leaving the bookshelf, he spotted another book on cryptology and took it with him. "Amazing that these are all on the same bookshelf," Coop mused.

He found an empty table and sat down, placing all of his books on top of it. On the opposite wall was a poster of two books with terrified faces and a caption that said "READ?"

 _That's a little disturbing_ , he thought. He stopped staring at the poster and began flipping through the book on conspiracy theories. On page fifty, he stopped. There it was, the Eye of Providence. "The image of the all-seeing eye is found on American currency," he read aloud. "It is rumored to be connected to numerous secret societies throughout history. The Eye of Providence is all-knowing and all-seeing, even into realms unknown to man." He stopped reading. "That's it!" he whispered, careful of the librarian's silencing gaze. "That's Bill Cipher. But what is his connection to this town?"

He began looking through the other books. After turning a lot of pages in _Secrets of the Pacific Northwest_ , he finally found a picture of a cave painting shaped very similarly to Bill Cipher. It was a very basic drawing, but the shape of the triangle with a single eye was clear enough. There was a circle drawn around the triangle with many symbols inside it. He read, "This painting is located in a cave in the mountains surrounding Gravity Falls, Oregon. Due to the figures depicted bowing to it, it can be concluded that it represented an ancient deity. It is unclear what the symbols on the zodiac mean, but they must have had some connection to the being depicted. Cave paintings in and of themselves are not uncommon in the Pacific Northwest, but this triangle shape is very different in visual style from most other Native American deities, and similar triangle shapes have been found carved into trees and stones in the area."

 _So Bill really is an ancient being_ , Cooper thought. _He wasn't lying about that. If he is the inspiration for secret societies, then he could have also been telling the truth about being a muse._ He looked at the image of the cave painting carefully. It was hard to tell of the human figures at the bottom were worshiping Bill or trying to run away. _I still don't know if I can trust him_ , Coop decided. _I'll have to read a lot more than a few pages to determine that_.

He carried his stack of six books to the front desk, where the same librarian was still sitting. "Excuse me," he said, getting her attention. "I'm with the FBI and I need these for a case."

"Do you have a library card here?" she asked.

"No, but they're essential for my research…"

"You can't check out the books without a library card."

Coop showed her his badge. "Look, I know this isn't how it normally works, but as an FBI agent, I am asking you to allow me to take them as evidence. Technically, I could do it without asking, but I thought I'd be polite about it."

The librarian peered at the stack of books. "Well, nobody really reads those anyway," she conceded. "You bring them back in two weeks or I will hunt you down and make you pay." The look she gave him at the end of that sentence was grave enough that he had no doubt she would keep her word. He nodded in understanding and walked out with his stack of books.

All six books were fairly thick, so once they were stacked on top of each other, it was a wonder the FBI agent could see anything at all. They blocked most of his view, so he instead looked down to avoid tripping over the steps or the curb. Unfortunately, this did not help him see other people walking toward him. Just as he stepped off the final step from the front of the library, he crashed into somebody else carrying two thick binders, sending all the books and binders flying. They all landed on the sidewalk, and both parties bent down to pick them up.

"I'm so sorry," Coop apologized as he reached for the farthest binder.

"No, no, it was my fault," a woman's voice answered. "I wasn't looking where I was going." She and Coop each began to pick up the books without making eye contact.

"All the same, I should have been more careful," Agent Cooper replied. He now had three books and a binder. He spotted one more book on the edge of the sidewalk close to the woman. "I think there's one behind you there."

The woman reached back and grabbed the book. "Right. Well, I've got three of yours here…"

"And I've got both of yours I think…"

The two of them straightened up and looked each other in the eyes. What they saw made both of them drop all their binders and books. For several moments, all they could do was stare. The woman broke the silence first.

"Special Agent!" she exclaimed, jumping into the air and giving him a hug. She let go for a moment, took a tiny flashlight out of her purse, and shined it in Coop's eyes for a second. Satisfied with whatever she was looking for, she put it away and hugged him again. "It really is you! I was so worried…"

Agent Cooper wasn't sure exactly how to process what was happening. "Audrey?" he finally said, hugging her back. "But…how?"

Audrey Horne let go and brushed some loose, brunette locks away from her face. She looked older than she had four years ago, but was still just as beautiful. Her sweater and saddle shoes had been replaced by a professional blazer and pumps. "A friend of my father's wanted an assistant for the rest of the summer, and I thought it would be nice to get some experience outside the family business. My father didn't mind at all. It was actually his idea." She looked Coop over once more. "I just…I just can't believe you're here. I mean, after you disappeared, I didn't know what to think, but then your boss called Harry last year and said you were alive but not coming back, and I really hoped you'd come back anyway, but…wow." She stopped talking for a second, taking a deep breath. "Well, you're here. In Gravity Falls. What are the odds of that?"

Agent Cooper, up until about five seconds ago, had been certain that the odds of being anywhere with Audrey were exactly zero. "Audrey," he told her, "I don't understand. I read in the Twin Peaks Gazette that there was an explosion at the bank. It said you died."

"What?" Audrey looked at him confusedly, then slowly realized what he meant. "Oh, right! Agent Cooper, you know how misleading the Twin Peaks Gazette can be. Do you have any idea how many people it has incorrectly reported as dead? Remember Catherine Martell? After the explosion, I was found unconscious and gravely injured, but the paper accidentally misreported me as dead. They corrected it the very next day." She paused, then asked, "Did you not read the next issue?"

Coop, now realizing his mistake, felt more than a little embarrassed. "Um…no. No, I did not." He tried to think up an excuse. "I was going through a lot at the time. I guess I wasn't quite thinking straight. Audrey, I'm so sorry. If I'd only known…"

"Don't worry about it," she assured him. "I'm alive, and I'm here now. For that matter, so are you. You have no idea how much everyone missed you back home after you disappeared. Even Johnny was upset, and I'm not sure if he ever even met you." A nervous look suddenly crossed her face. "Say, do you know what time it is?"

Coop checked his watch, still struggling to believe what was happening. "It's a quarter to ten," he told her.

Audrey groaned. "Ugh, just when I run into an old friend! I'm sorry, Coop, but I've got to go. It's only my third day at work and I've got to catch a taxi or something…"

"I'll drive you," Cooper suggested. The words popped out of his mouth with no hesitation, almost before he realized it. "I have a car. We can catch up on the way."

Audrey smiled. "You always have a plan, don't you, Special Agent? Fine, let's do it. I know how to get there. I'll just give you directions."

The two of them picked up all the fallen books and binders and headed to Agent Cooper's black government vehicle. Coop pulled out of the parking lot and, as directed by Audrey, turned left toward Main Street. He glanced at his passenger, accidentally made eye contact, then looked back to the road. "I'm sorry, Audrey," he stated, "but when a good friend comes back from the dead after four years, staring is a natural response."

Audrey, still looking at Coop, replied, "I should hope so. You know, I don't think you've aged a day since I last saw you. When was that? The Miss Twin Peaks contest?"

Agent Cooper's grip on the wheel tightened. Yes, that had been the last time he had seen Audrey. It had also been the last time he'd seen a lot of people, and the day Windom Earle had kidnapped and sacrificed Annie. That was one memory he did not enjoy digging back up.

Audrey could tell that something was wrong. "Never mind," she said. "That's not important. What I'm saying is, wherever you were, you stayed in good shape. Any chance you'll tell me about that?"

"Not likely," Coop replied, eyes still glued to the road. "Not right now."

Audrey frowned, then understood. "Is this because of Annie?"

Coop didn't answer. He didn't have to.

Audrey put a comforting hand on his right shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Coop. She was really nice. She didn't deserve it at all."

"No," he agreed. "No, she did not." She especially didn't deserve to be murdered in cold blood by an evil spirit possessing her boyfriend's body, but that much Coop was sure no one else knew, and he wanted to keep it that way.

"I'm sorry I brought it up," Audrey apologized again. "That's not the best way to rekindle a friendship. I didn't mean—"

"No worries, Audrey," Coop said, giving her a friendly glance. "It was an honest question. I'm just…not ready to talk about that right now. Fork in the road, which way do I go?"

Audrey looked ahead. "Go left, then go left again at the next turn."

"Okay." He turned left as instructed and continued to talk. "It seems like it's my turn to be conversational, so let me ask this: what in the name of sweet cherry pie happened at that bank?"

Audrey laughed at the agent's choice of expression. "You really haven't changed at all," she said before explaining, "I was helping my father save the pine weasel from the Ghostwood development. We'd produced plenty of evidence of the environmental hazard it could cause, plus raised a ton of funds to get the word out, but the bank still planned to finance the project. So I chained myself to the bank's vault in an act of civil disobedience."

"I knew that much from the paper," Coop commented. "It also said that you tried to call me."

Audrey explained, "I was trying to get attention. I told the bank teller to call the Gazette and the police department. I said to ask for you because I knew you'd take me seriously. Anyway, there I was, chained to the door of the vault, when Pete Martell and this other old man I'd never seen before came in looking for a safety deposit box. Well, they found it. Boy, did they find it. Guess what was inside?"

"Would I be correct in assuming it was the bomb that triggered the explosion?" Agent Cooper guessed.

"One hundred percent, Special Agent. I don't know what they were looking for, but it wasn't what they got. Every window was shattered, walls crashed down, smoke was everywhere, and I got trapped under that stupid vault door, completely knocked out. It took them forever to find me. They did think I was dead at first, but my father and Doc Hayward showed up and cleared that up quickly, then took me to the hospital. My father didn't even know I was going to be there. He told me he was going to take care of some personal business with a friend. It must have had to do with Doc Hayward because they came together, which was pretty convenient. I don't remember any of it, obviously, but I seem to recall someone telling me that the two of them were having some kind of argument. They seemed over it by the time I woke up."

"When did you wake up?"

"About a week later. They really had no idea if I'd make it. I guess I got lucky."

"I'll say," Coop nodded. "A lot of people don't make it out of stuff like that. What happened to Pete and the other man?"

She shrugged. "I don't know about the other guy. I haven't seen him since, so I wouldn't be surprised if he died. Pete was the same as me, but he was a lot closer to the bomb, so he's still got some burns."

"Poor Pete," Coop sighed. "He's a good man. And a true master of chess."

"And fishing," Audrey added with a smile. "He took me fishing as soon as we were both physically able again. I'd never done it before and didn't catch much, but he didn't care, good old Pete. He'd been wanting to take me to cheer me up ever since Jack Wheeler—" She stopped suddenly, as if reluctant to reveal some information.

Agent Cooper looked at her for as long as he could justify removing his eyes from the road. "Jack Wheeler? What happened between you and Jack Wheeler? Did he do something to you?"

"Um…turn left here."

Coop obeyed, still waiting for an answer.

"Jack and I were, well, seeing each other," Audrey explained. She spoke slowly, hoping her careful word choice would mask how awkward she felt. "It wasn't really official. I mean, it kind of was. It wasn't serious though. Well, maybe a little bit serious, but we'd only known each other for such a short time that it really couldn't be. He came in to help my father with work and I got all swept up in his charm and looks and airplane…did you ever meet him?"

Agent Cooper thought back. "Hm…yes, I believe I did." Specifically, he could remember one conversation with John Justice Wheeler. It had been about women and love. At the time, Coop hadn't realized which woman Jack had been talking about. That conversation held an entirely different meaning now.

"Okay, so anyway," Audrey continued, feeling a little bit more comfortable, but still not completely, "we were seeing each other, sort of, and then he got this call that said he had to go to Brazil. There was no going around it. I did get to…say goodbye to him. Before he left, I mean. He promised to come back, but it wouldn't be for months. I was pretty depressed about that. Pete was there, so he knew. I decided to throw myself one hundred percent into saving Ghostwood so I wouldn't have to think about it. Not that I wasn't giving a hundred percent before, because I was, or that I didn't fully believe in it, because I did, but I did kind of start basing my whole life around it. I didn't talk to you much, or anybody really besides my father. Then, there was the explosion. I guess that knocked some sense back into me." She laughed a little at the idea.

Agent Cooper kept his eyes fixed on the road. "So…are you and Wheeler still…?"

"Together?" she finished for him. "Not anymore. He did come back at first. I was kind of mad at him for not returning until weeks after I left the hospital, but of course he had hundreds of excuses. I mean, give the guy a break, he was in the Amazon! Well, he came back, then he'd leave, then he'd come back again a little bit later, then he'd leave, then he'd come back even later…you get the picture, don't you?" Agent Cooper nodded. She continued, "Well, eventually, he stopped coming back. Maybe he did mean to, but it got to be twice as long as he'd ever been away before, so I called him and said unless he was on his way back, we were done, and, well, he wasn't on his way back. Our relationship hadn't been doing too great anyway. He didn't have nearly as much personality as I thought he had. Honestly, I think I was only in love with him because he was the first man to sing to me."

Agent Cooper glanced at her, then back at the road. "Sing to you?"

"Yeah. I guess I always had this idea that when a guy really loves you, he'll sing to you. I probably got it from my father singing to Laura. I was a pretty messed up kid. Well, Jack sang to me, and I somehow fooled myself into thinking he was some dream man from the movies. Looking back, he really didn't do much else to warrant that. He was nice and all, but really not that great. I'm pretty sure in the end he was only coming back for the sex anyway."

The car screeched to a sudden halt, making both driver and passenger hold onto their seats and brace themselves. They relaxed after the car reached a full stop. Agent Cooper looked behind him for oncoming cars, then sheepishly back at Audrey. "Sorry," he said. "Sudden red light."

"Hey, we're still alive," Audrey joked. "My employer's house is only a little bit farther. I feel like I've been rambling long enough. Are you sure there's nothing you want to tell me about when you were missing?" Though she continued to smile, her face switched from cheerful and friendly to comforting and helpful. "You always did such a good job of listening to me when I was troubled. It's only fair I do the same."

"I know, Audrey," Agent Cooper said, looking away. He noticed how far from the center of town they now were. The car was on a hill, surrounded by trees and hardly any buildings. He looked back at her and continued, "When I am ready to talk to someone, I'll talk to you. Is that okay?"

"Okay," she nodded, still smiling sweetly. The light turned green and Coop eased back onto the gas, driving through the hills of Gravity Falls. "Well, Agent Cooper," Audrey stated matter-of-factly, "if you're not going to tell me about your past, I'm going to find out about your present. What in the name of sweet cherry pie is an FBI agent like you doing in Gravity Falls?" She reached into the backseat and pulled out a few of his books. "Secret societies, conspiracy theories, codes…how exciting!" She froze, then added, "Unless it was a murder. Please tell me no teenage girls are getting murdered here?"

"Nope," he replied. "No teenage girls have been murdered here. As far as I'm aware, there have been no murders in Gravity Falls recently. But as much as I'd love to share my case with you, there's a lot that's still uncertain, so for now I'm not at liberty to reveal much."

"Uh-huh." Audrey did not seem completely convinced. She reached back and brought the remaining books into her lap and began skimming their pages. "Let's see…you've got some legends in here, some paranormal activity…history of the town…founded in 1863…rumors of ghosts and…wait…aliens?" She put down the book, then looked at it a second time. "Yep, you checked out a book that believes in aliens. Congratulations, Agent Cooper, you must have gotten yourself mixed up in a pretty huge conspiracy. You must be so proud."

He laughed. "I kind of am, actually. It's exhilarating being out in the field again with so much to work with. Gravity Falls has a lot of secrets, and I intend to uncover as many of them as possible."

"Sounds like this town is right up your alley then, Special Agent. Turn right here, and the driveway's coming up. I haven't been here long, but I can tell you one thing about this town's history. Want to hear it?"

"Of course, Audrey. I'm all ears."

"The founder of the town? His name was Nathaniel Northwest. He built Northwest Manor, where his descendants still live. Preston Northwest is his direct heir now, and he has a wife named Priscilla and a young daughter named Pacifica."

"I will remember that. How did you come across this information?"

"Probably because Preston Northwest is my boss. We're here!"

Agent Cooper stopped the car and realized that they were on the top of a mountain. Before him loomed Northwest Manor, closed off to the public by a grand, tall gate. The mansion was humongous and extravagant. It was like the Great Northern on steroids and with more unnecessary embellishments. The way the shadows flickered on the top floor's windows seemed at first to spell the word, "CURSED," though at second glance, he wasn't so sure. He hoped not.

Audrey picked up her binders and stepped out of the car. "They're very picky who they open the gate to," she explained through the open window of the passenger door. "You can drop me off here and I'll just head on in. I really hope we can keep catching up some other time. It's been way too long! Thank you so much for the ride, Agent Cooper!" She walked over to the gate, showed her face to the security camera, and the gates opened wide for her. After waving goodbye to Agent Cooper, she walked quickly down the pristine walkway, past the fountain, around the peacocks, to the front door of the mansion. The gates slammed shut.

Agent Cooper's head still felt like it was spinning from everything that had just happened. He clicked on his tape recorder and said, "Diane, it appears I was mistaken about the fate of Audrey Horne. She is alive. Very, very much alive." He paused, thinking of what to say next. He had no idea where to start. The bank? Ghostwood? Her new job? Wheeler? It was all so much to take in. He gave up on forming any coherent explanation and told Diane, "Audrey is now working in Gravity Falls for Preston Northwest, friend of Ben Horne and descendant of the founder of this town. She had grown into a…remarkable young woman. I'll fill you in on the details once I've taken some time to contemplate this discovery." He clicked off his tape recorder and began driving back down the road toward town.

"Audrey Horne is alive," he repeated to himself as he drove, almost unable to believe it. "Audrey Horne is alive."

 **(A/N: I told you Audrey would be involved in this story! Did you miss her? I think Coop did. Thanks for reading!)**


	13. Northwest Mansion Secrets

As she waited for the butler to answer the door, Audrey felt like kicking herself. _Really? I see Agent Cooper for the first time in four years and spend half the time talking about my dumb romance problems? I could have talked about anything else that happened since he left, and I picked that? Way to go, Audrey, now he probably thinks you're still a flirty teenager with emotional issues. So classy._ She stopped silently chiding herself long enough to look back after him, though her view was blocked by the gate. She smiled. _Finally, after all these years, he's back in my life. What a wonderful…_

The door opened suddenly, breaking her train of thought. She snapped to attention as the butler addressed her, "Ah yes, good day, Miss Horne. Right this way."

She followed him inside and the door shut behind her. It was her third day working at Northwest Manor, but she was still figuring out the layout of the massive mansion. Basically everything inside could fall into at least one, if not all, of three categories: extravagant, exotic, and expensive. Audrey had lived a pretty privileged lifestyle at the Great Northern, regardless of her family's many issues, but the décor at her father's hotel, while sometimes a bit much, was never this level of showy. It seemed clear that most of what was visible was only there to give an impression of how rich and successful the Northwests were, not because it was tasteful or even logical. Of course, since Mr. Northwest was her boss for the rest of the summer, she decided it was not her place to critique his interior decorating skills and pretended not to notice the three stuffed bears, two gold busts of Nathaniel Northwest, and diamond chandelier she saw on her way into Mr. Northwest's office.

"Mr. Northwest," she said as she walked into the room, the butler stepping aside to perform his duties elsewhere in the mansion, "I have the files you gave me. They're all organized now." Her heels clicked on the smooth, polished floor as she stepped toward his desk, where she set down the two binders.

Preston Northwest scooted his velvet-cushioned chair closer. "Ah, there you are, Audrey," he said. He glanced at the clock on the wall and remarked, "Two minutes late. Tut tut tut. You'll have to do better than that from now on."

She cringed. "Right. Sorry about that. I just…"

"Just what? You do have a good reason, I hope?"

Audrey felt like she heard a hint of condescension in his voice. "Well, actually, yes," she explained, her posture and tone remaining professional. "I ran into an old friend of mine by accident. I knew him a long time ago, back home, and we hadn't seen each other in years, so naturally we were surprised to see each other here. I suppose we talked a bit too long, but I did try to get here as quickly as possible. He drove me over, actually."

"Hmph," Mr. Northwest grunted. "Well, I certainly hope it will not happen again."

"No," Audrey shook her head, "it will not."

"Good." Preston opened the binders and began flipping through the pages, giving barely a cursory glance to their actual contents. "Hm…looks fine…yes, all in order. That'll do quite nicely." He set both binders aside, thought for a moment, then asked, "Audrey, do you remember what I told you yesterday about my family's legacy?"

Audrey was a little surprised by the question. "Um…yes, I think so. You said that the Northwests have been the richest, most successful, and most powerful family in Gravity Falls since it was founded. Why?"

Mr. Northwest stood up from his chair and walked around his desk until he was closer to Audrey, though he refused to look down to her level and continued to speak to the air around his much taller head. "Why? I'll tell you why. The Northwests have always been the best. Better than anyone else in Gravity Falls. Ever. In this town, there are very few people of significance, and none with as much significance as us. Because of this, we must always provide an example to the masses of what a truly great family looks like, a shining city on a hill, so to speak."

"I'm not sure that's what that's supposed to mean…"

He ignored her interruption. "Recently, something rather…troubling occurred, Audrey. I won't burden you with the details, but I fear it has tarnished our legacy. Only a bit, of course. Still, it is difficult to run a business while taking care of damage control of one's family legacy. I know I've mostly been giving you measly, low level work since you arrived, but now I'd like to give you a project to help me out."

Audrey straightened up, prepared to take orders from her new boss. "Anything, sir. Well, short of the impossible, of course. I won't be conjuring up any gnome armies for you or anything," she added with a playful laugh.

Preston apparently didn't get the joke. He gave her a strange look, then continued, "Your father comes from the same cloth of greatness as I do, so I believe I can trust you to come up with a plan that will effectively save the Northwest family's reputation. It could be an event, a campaign, a strategy, anything. Just make sure it shows that we are the absolute best."

Audrey nodded slowly, her brain already storming. "I won't let you down, Mr. Northwest. Anything specific you'd like me to use, or take into consideration?"

Mr. Northwest pondered for a moment, then answered, "Well, we have plenty of money and luxury items. We can probably afford whatever you come up with, but if you'd like to see exactly how much is available, there's a book of all our finances in the bookcase behind the stairs. I know it's a bit old fashioned, but my great-great-great-great-grandfather used it, so why shouldn't I?"

"Fair enough. I'll get right to work on that." She turned to leave.

Just before she reached the door, Audrey was stopped in her tracks by one last command from Mr. Northwest. "Oh, and Audrey? Whatever you do, try to avoid anything that involves… _poor people_."

Audrey did a double take. "I'm sorry, what?"

"That'll be all!" he said, shooing her out of the room before she could ask for any clarification.

Audrey found herself alone in the glamorous hallway, confused. "Poor people?" she repeated. She wasn't entirely sure what Mr. Northwest meant. Did he mean the homeless? Or just people poorer than the Northwests? Or something in the middle? Whatever he meant, what was the problem with involving "poor people"? Of the ideas she had begun to brainstorm in the past few seconds, several of them were charitable ones. It seemed like the natural answer to the problem of saving a wealthy family's reputation. She thought about knocking on the study door to get some answers, but stopped herself. This was her first job outside of the family business, and she had only just received her first actual responsibility as an employee. Maybe it would be best if she just started following instructions. After all, she could always ask questions later.

Northwest Manor was a very large place with many rooms and corridors. There were few places in the mansion that Audrey could find with complete certainty, but the staircase was one of them. It was large, grand, and very visible. She found her way to the staircase, then clicked her heels across the shiny, polished floor until she was behind it. There was the bookcase. The staircase it sat behind cast a large shadow over it, making it less illuminated than the rest of the brightly lit mansion. It was full of very large, official-looking books and records. Audrey looked the books over until she found an old green one containing the family's financial records. She pulled it off the shelf and started walking away from the bookcase.

As she did so, she noticed a very strange portrait on a nearby wall. It looked like a painting of a king, but the head was a skull. It seemed a little out of place in a mansion full of family portraits, but even more out of place was the faint light flashing behind it. Curious, Audrey walked towards it for a closer look.

She walked down the hallway until she was only a few feet away from the painting. Suddenly, the light stopped flashing, as if it had heard her coming. Now Audrey knew something was going on. She continued toward the strange picture, then looked it up and down, eyeing every detail. Finally, close the bottom, she found something. The canvas of the painting was torn, though the paint concealed it from a distance, so that a flap was loose. _This must be where the light was coming from_ , Audrey realized. She looked back to make sure no one could see her, then gently pushed open the flap.

She found herself staring into a small, dark, seemingly empty room. "Hello?" she said, looking around for the source of the light. "Who's in here?"

She received no verbal answer, but heard a shuffling noise, as if someone was trying to hide from her sight. Her investigative senses now on high alert, Audrey dug into her purse and brought out her flashlight, which she shined into the darkness. Its circular beam scanned the room, apparently filled with even more old paintings, until it landed on a head of blonde hair. As she moved the light downward, it became clear to Audrey that the blonde head sat atop a small, twelve-year-old body in a cute purple skirt and blouse combination. Audrey recognized her immediately. "Pacifica?" she whispered. "What are you doing in here?"

Pacifica scrambled to her feet, dropping her own incriminating flashlight in the process. "Go away!" she whispered back. "It's none of your business!"

"Well, I work for your father and I'm staying in your house," Audrey replied, "so I think it might be a little of my business." She stuck her head a little further into the hole and looked around. "What is this place?"

"Nothing," Pacifica insisted, crossing her arms. "Now get out of here! If my parents see…"

Before the girl could finish her sentence, Audrey heard someone walking toward her. She straightened up and stepped in front of the canvas hole just in time for Mrs. Northwest, her face practically glued into a permanent and very fake smile, to walk in from around the corner.

"Oh, hello, Audrey," she greeted, her face muscles barely moving as she spoke. "What are you doing here?"

Audrey thought quickly. "Well…I was just admiring this very interesting painting, Mrs. Northwest. A skeleton wearing a king's robe seems a bit unusual, but it is exquisitely done."

Mrs. Northwest glanced over the painting with little interest. "Indeed," she said. "I forget where Preston found it. He has a taste for the macabre when it comes to some things. Certainly more than I do." She looked around her surroundings, then asked Audrey, "Have you seen Pacifica by any chance? She was told to stay in her room this afternoon, but she appears to have left it. That girl used to be so obedient, but now it's like she doesn't even hear instructions anymore."

"Hm…" Audrey stepped forward so that the hole in the painting was even more hidden than before. "Let me see…no, I don't think I've seen her. Have you checked outside? She could be playing with the peacocks."

Mrs. Northwest's brow would have furrowed if it could. "Outside? No, but I shall check there next. Honestly, I don't know what I'll ever do with her." She hurried away to continue her search.

Once Pacifica's mother was safely outside, Audrey gently lifted the flap of the canvas again and called softly into the darkness, "Pacifica? She's gone now if you want to come out."

Pacifica turned out her flashlight so that the two of them could see each other. Her expression was grateful, but also a little puzzled. "You lied to my mom for me?" she said, almost in disbelief. "But you barely even know me."

"I know a kid in trouble when I see one," Audrey replied. "Look, I know I'm just your dad's assistant, but if you want to tell me what's wrong, I'm all ears."

Pacifica stood up and walked a little closer to the opening. "Did my dad tell you what happened last weekend?" she asked.

"Not exactly. He said your family reputation was damaged and told me to come up with a project to restore it. He told me the details don't really matter."

"Hmph!" Pacifica crossed her arms again and looked away angrily. "He _would_ say that! It's like he doesn't even care."

The young girl's words echoed in Audrey's mind. Years ago, they could very easily have been hers. She remembered her father before he started trying to be good, and everything that had gone wrong in their relationship. "Pacifica," she said understandingly, "I know what it's like to have problems with your parents. Do you want to talk about it?"

Pacifica seemed to consider the offer for a moment, but finally refused. "If you're so enthusiastic about fixing my family's 'reputation,' try asking the man putting you in charge of it. It's his fault anyway."

Audrey was somewhat surprised by the hostility she received, but not entirely. She tried again, "Pacifica, are you sure—"

"Just leave me alone!"

The girl turned off her flashlight, plunging the tiny, hidden room into complete darkness again. Audrey pulled her head out of the hole and shook her head. Whatever was going on, Pacifica needed some time to herself. Audrey could relate to that. Then again, she was also very concerned about her. It had taken just about everything going wrong in the Horne family before Audrey and her father could reconcile and do some good together. As ridiculous as it seemed to make assumptions from a single interaction, Audrey feared that Pacifica was perhaps heading down the same, difficult path. In the end, she decided to give the young blonde girl her space—for now—and left the painting.

However, there was one lingering question in Audrey's mind that she could not dismiss so easily. None of the Northwests had told her the events of the past weekend. Pacifica seemed to have a lot of feelings about what had happened, while her father appeared intent on burying it as deep underground as possible. The Northwests definitely had a secret, and Audrey knew that somehow, someway, she was going to find out what it was.


	14. Interview with a Madman

Coop's black government vehicle cruised out of the mountains and through the streets of Gravity Falls. Agent Cooper noticed the dump sitting on his right and pulled into it, parking in front of the only building in the enclosed area, the rest of which was filled with garbage. Coop exited his car and walked toward the rusty, lopsided door, certain that this was where Old Man McGucket had claimed to live. His suspicions were confirmed by the spray painted letters spelling "MCSUCKIT" on the building's flimsy metal wall.

Before he could knock on the door, it was opened eagerly by Old Man McGucket, who seemed quite excited to see Coop. "Yeehaw!" he exclaimed, slapping his knee. "I know'd you'd come visit me!"

"Well, here I am," Coop replied, peering over the short man's head to see the inside of the rickety, messy, altogether strange place he called his house. "Might I come in?"

"You sure can!" As Agent Cooper entered the room, Old Man McGucket stepped back from the door, spat into a bucket, and then climbed around the piles of rusty metal similarly to a four-legged animal. He finally plopped himself down on top of an upside-down wooden tub and danced a happy little jig before calming down enough to ask, "Did ya happen to see my raccoon wife out there? I think she went out to hunt some leprechauns for supper, but she might just be mad at me for stepping on her tail."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Oh, never mind that!" Without elaborating any further on his bizarre ramblings, McGucket removed his hat and tossed it into the air. It landed on a hook above the door. "Yeehaw! Bullseye! You wanna try, Mr. Agent?"

"It's Agent Cooper," Coop corrected him gently, "and I don't have a hat with me." He sat down on the piece of rusty metal that appeared the safest to put his weight on and continued, "I'm here to ask you some questions, McGucket. You said you'd seen something, that something huge was about to happen. Or happening. Do you remember any of it?"

"Eh?" Old Man McGucket tilted his head, seemingly puzzled. Slowly, realization dawned on him. "Oh, that! You'll have to forgive me, my memory's not what it used to be. I just got so excited to finally have a visitor! Y'know, I don't even see the neighbors anymore."

Agent Cooper glanced out the nearest dirty window. "Maybe that's because you're surrounded by piles of garbage."

"Hm…that does make sense," the old man allowed. "Still, it ain't no excuse for my son."

Coop looked up, intrigued. "Your son?"

"Tate McGucket," Fiddleford explained. "Works down at the lake. Every time I try to come and see him, he comes up with some excuse like, 'No death robots in a swimming area,' or 'Fishing poles aren't supposed to use lasers,' or 'They're screaming in terror, not joy'. It's crazy what a man has to go through just to visit his own son, ain't it?"

"Death robots?"

"So what did you want to know about, Agent Cooper?" Old Man McGucket continued as if Coop hadn't said anything. "Was it the reason behind the bandage on my beard? Because I've been wondering about that one too…"

Agent Cooper was beginning to question his choice to trust this obviously crazy person. Then again, he had done the same with the Log Lady, and she had known everything. He decided to steer the conversation back on track. "McGucket, you said you forgot to bring something with you to the station. Would you mind showing me what it was?"

Old Man McGucket scratched his head, then remembered, "Oh, yes! The laptop! I'll get it!" He reached into a pile of junk and tossed pieces behind him as he searched, while Coop ducked to narrowly avoid them. Finally, he pulled out an old metal box. He placed it on his lap and opened it to reveal a screen and a keyboard. "This laptop once belonged to a genius," he said as he turned it on. "He was searching these parts for mysterious creatures."

Coop inched forward in his seat. "A genius? What was his name?"

McGucket shrugged his shoulders. "I wish I could remember. I knew him back then, but then…well, I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"Nope. Well, I know a little now. I used to know nothing at all. You see, I was his assistant. Then, I saw something so horrifying that I invented a machine to erase my whole memory!" He knocked his knuckles on the side of his head. "Heh heh! As gone as my ex-wife!"

Agent Cooper remembered Gordon's description of Gravity Falls. "Like Twin Peaks, but with less murder and more amnesia," he had said. "So you lost all of your memories from that time," Coop summarized. "McGucket, are you sure you don't remember anything at all about the man exploring the woods? Was his name…" here he dropped his voice to a softer volume and more concerned tone, "…Windom Earle?"

"Windom Earle…hm…I don't know. I can't remember ever hearing that name before, but I also don't remember anything about the guy. Like I said, it's all gone."

Coop wasn't completely reassured, but he returned his attention to the laptop, which was now beginning to light up properly. As the FBI agent watched, the graphics on the screen shaped themselves into an upside-down triangle and a few circles surrounding it. "Okay," he said. "What about this laptop? What's its significance?"

"It belonged to the genius I was workin' for," McGucket explained. "I was tryin' to fix it, when all of a sudden, it started countin' down to the end."

"The end?" Coop looked at the old man inquisitively. "The end of what?"

"The world as we know it!" McGucket declared, shaking his fist at the ceiling. "I don't know what that means, but it happened. It's happening now, I tell you! Something closed was opened, that's what happened. Now there are things passin' through, some that should, and some that shouldn't."

This was all very vague and hard to understand, even for Coop, who was used to dealing with enigmas. "McGucket," he said slowly, "I know this isn't easy for you, but I need you to recall everything you can about what the laptop was counting down to."

"I don't know!" McGucket insisted earnestly. He gestured to the laptop's screen with his waving, bandaged arm. "There was a warning, but it's gone now! All gone! All I know is something that shouldn't have happened did, and it happened just this past weekend!"

"This weekend!" Coop explained, realizing a connection. "You mean during the earthquake?"

McGucket nodded multiple times rapidly. "Earthquake! Yes, that was it! But it weren't no ordinary earthquake, Mr. Agent. It was the beginning of the end."

Again, Agent Cooper was perplexed by what McGucket meant. "The beginning of the end of what, McGucket?"

"The end of time, space, and everything!" McGucket exclaimed. He stopped, then jumped off the tub to a new spot much closer to Cooper. He leaned in close and whispered in his ear, though it was much louder than most average whispers, "And I know I'm right. See, there were these other agents like you a-followin' me around."

Coop pulled away and looked at the old man. "You mean Agent Powers and Agent Trigger? They were following you?"

"They had to be!" Old Man McGucket answered. "Why else did I see them everywhere I looked? Thems was at the mall, the Mystery Shack, Northwest Manor, everywhere!"

Agent Cooper immediately took out his notebook and wrote down those three locations. If the other agents had been there, maybe they could be connected.

"And you know why?" McGucket continued. "I got theories, Mr. Agent! One of 'em must be true, and they knew it! Let me show ya!" He ran off to the far corner of the room and returned with a messy stack of handwritten papers. He plopped the stack in Coop's lap and narrated each one as the FBI agent looked them over. "That one's about the traffic cone uprising that is sure to come soon. See, there's all these triangles around town that I believe are demons in disguise. But how would they do us any harm, you may wonder? Easy! Turn themselves into orange rubber things that block traffic! Oh, and that one's about the gold medals. A lot of people wear them in these parts. It's got to be a sign of a secret society or something. Ooh! That one's my favorite!"

"This one?" Coop pulled out and flattened the piece of paper to which McGucket was referring. It featured scribbled drawings of several residents of Gravity Falls, as well as several eyeballs. One large eyeball sat in the center of the page with an X drawn through it.

"It's about the one-eyed conspiracy," McGucket said. "Look at how many people in Gravity Falls only show one eye. Lazy Susan keeps one closed. Stan Pines wears an eyepatch. That guy, well, I've only ever seen his left side, so he probably only has a left eye. And that guy with the tattoos on his head? He has a blind eye with a scar through it. You know he has to be in on it because he took my memories."

"Wait." Coop held up his hand to stop McGucket. "I thought you said you erased your own memories."

"I did!"

"Then how did this man get them?"

McGucket sighed. "It's a long story. Apparently I started a secret society in the basement of the Gravity Falls Natural History Museum, but it doesn't exist anymore. They kept all my memories, and my memory-erasing machine too. Now I got some of them back, but it ain't much."

"But what about the machine?" Coop asked. "Do you still have the memory-erasing machine?"

"Nope!"

"Do you know who does?"

"Yup!"

A long silence followed. "Um…would you mind telling me?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Agent. It's them kids."

"Kids?" Agent Cooper thought for a moment, then realized what Old Man McGucket meant. He snapped and pointed at McGucket. "Dipper and Mabel! Of course! They really do know what's going on. Excellent!" _It also means that Dipper and Mabel were most likely involved in the brainwashing of federal agents_ , he mentally added. "Was there only one machine?"

"Only one that I know of. If I did make more, I forgot. Y'know, I've been a-tryin' to recreate it somehow. I think I might be able to fix my memories if I know how I lost 'em."

"Seems logical. Have you had any success?"

"Nope. So far, all it's done is set my overalls on fire. Twice!"

"Okay." _The twins almost definitely brainwashed Powers and Trigger_ , he concluded. _They seemed like such nice kids. Maybe there's more to this than meets the eye_. "Well, if you ever do figure it out, I want to hear about it right away. Your memories could be crucial to solving this mystery."

McGucket danced another quick little jig. "Absolutely, Mr. Agent! Glad I can be of help to somebody. Seems most folks don't want to listen to me, or even like me, and I can't for the life of me understand why."

Agent Cooper nodded in sympathy. He felt awful for Old Man McGucket. The old man had clearly been a great inventor or scientist or something like that. Now, he was an outcast, labeled as crazy by his own son. Not to mention his lost memories! "I look forward to working with you, McGucket," he said sincerely. "There's just one more thing I'm curious about."

"Ask away!"

Coop glanced at Old Man McGucket's scribbled conspiracy theories, then continued, "You said the other agents were following you because of your theories. I am an agent of the FBI, the same thing they were. Why are you so willing to share this information with me?"

Fiddleford nodded slowly as he processed the question. "Yer different, Mr. Agent," he replied. "You see things. You know things. I seen it on the TV and in the station. I don't know what it is, but I think it's your eyes."

"My eyes?" Agent Cooper had long known he was gifted when it came to the supernatural and could see many things that others couldn't, but he had never heard his gift attributed specifically to his eyes. He was also surprised that Old Man McGucket's mind was so clear on this one subject when it was cloudy on so many others. As he thought, he remembered how Audrey had shined her flashlight in his eyes before greeting him. He had been too excited to see her to think much of it, but now he began to wonder about that small, strange action. "What do you mean, McGucket?"

"About what?"

"My eyes."

"Eyes…" Old Man McGucket stared off into space, completely losing his train of thought. To Coop, it looked almost like he had slipped into a trance. The agent waved his hand in front of the old man's eyes, waiting for a response. Suddenly, McGucket snapped his head so that it was staring straight at Cooper. He crawled forward until their faces were almost touching, then rasped, "When gravity falls and earth becomes sky, fear the beast with just one eye."

Agent Cooper didn't take his eyes off McGucket. He had no idea what had come over the old inventor. "McGucket," he whispered after several seconds of silence, "what do you mean? Who is the beast with just one eye?"

McGucket stared back for one more second, then suddenly leaped backwards, turned a somersault, and began laughing hysterically. "I'm Old Man McGucket!" he announced, much to Coop's confusion right before spitting in another bucket. He then sat back down on his tub and grinned at the FBI agent. "Was there somethin' else you wanted, Mr. Agent?" he asked.

Agent Cooper searched Fiddleford's innocently smiling face for an answer. Finding none, he looked down at the conspiracy theories, then back to the old man's face. "I…I was just wondering if I could make copies of these conspiracy theories of yours. If I must be honest, they don't seem very conclusive, but they may have some useful evidence if I take a long enough look at them. You wouldn't mind, would you?"

Old Man McGucket shrugged. "Sure! Go on ahead! Just take those, if you want. I got plenty more where they came from. Ever since I started tryin' to recover my memory, I've been makin' extra copies of everything. Ya never know, after all, with my brain bein' what it is."

"Perfect. Thank you very much, McGucket." Agent Cooper offered Old Man McGucket a thumbs-up, then rolled up all the conspiracy theories and stood up to leave. "I'll be at the station if you need to report any progress on your memory retrieval."

Fiddleford looked up pleadingly at the FBI agent. "You are gonna come back an' visit, ain't you?"

"Absolutely!" he smiled back.

Old Man McGucket clapped excitedly. "Yeehaw! I knew it! Come back any time! Oh, and watch out on your way to the door!" he added just as Agent Cooper began walking toward the exit. "There's a rat runnin' 'round here that I just know is an evil sorcerer in disguise. Try not to step on him if you don't wanna turn into a toad."

At this point, Coop thought it was best to just go along with it. "All right, I'll be careful. Nice talking to you, McGucket!" He waved goodbye as he stepped out the creaky, flimsy door. As he reached his car, he again noticed the words spray painted onto McGucket's Shack: MCSUCKIT. The color of the paint was exactly the same as one of the colors that had landed on Blubs's and Durland's uniforms. It could have been a coincidence, but in Coop's law enforcement experience, coincidences rarely existed. He got into his car and clicked on his tape record. "Diane, it is twelve minutes to noon. Old Man McGucket has turned out to be an incredible source, though he has little long term memory left. Should he successfully recover it, he may have all the answers. On a side note, I'm going to have to have a talk with some of the teenagers in this town…"

 **(A/N: Yes, I did get all those conspiracy theories from the Old Man McGucket's Conspiracy Corner shorts. If you haven't seen them, look them up. He might be onto something, haha)**


	15. Finding Connections

**(A/N: This one's a bit short, but it's a fun one! I'll try to update more regularly. Thanks for reading!)**

Deputy Durland sat alone at his desk with nothing to do but solve another connect-the-dots puzzle. He stared at the paper in front of him for a few minutes, then gave up and began slowly spinning around in his swivel chair. He spun faster and faster each time around until eventually everything around him was a blur. "Wheee!" he exclaimed, though he was starting to feel dizzy.

Suddenly, Agent Cooper burst through the entrance carrying a tall pile of thick books. "Hello, Durland!" he greeted enthusiastically as he rushed by.

Startled, Durland fell right out of his chair and crashed onto the floor. He clumsily stood back up again and shouted, since Coop was now nearly to the back conference room, "Hey, Agent Cooper! What've you got there?"

Coop set the books down on the conference room table, then stepped into the doorway where Durland could see him. "Ideas," he said, before adding with a wave of his hands, "big ones." He paused, looked around for a moment, then asked, "Where's the sheriff?"

"Lunch break at Greasy's Diner," Durland explained. "He said he'd bring me back some pie if I stayed to take calls. Funny thing is, ain't nobody calling!"

"Well, if anyone does report any strange activity, let me know." The agent then retreated back into the conference room and opened one of the many books he had brought in.

It was nearly an hour before Blubs returned from his lunch break. "Sorry I'm late," he said as he walked in, both his hands behind his back as if hiding something. "Mudslide near the bank. Traffic was all backed up. But look what I brought you!" He produced a cherry pie from behind his back and set it in front of Durland.

"My favorite!" Durland exclaimed. "Oh Blubs, thank you!"

"For all the time we spend together," Blubs replied, "I should be thanking you." That statement reminded him of something Coop had mentioned earlier. "Say, Durland, do you know anything about…body language?"

Durland looked away from the glorious pie to face Blubs again. "No. Why? What is it?"

"Oh, nothing, just something Agent Cooper said the other day." He looked away and started whistling.

"Well, Agent Cooper's in the conference room if you want to ask him about it," Durland suggested, though his mind was entirely focused on how best to devour a delicious cherry pie. "He was carrying a ton of books. Bet he's even reading 'em!"

"Huh." Blubs turned to look down the hallway to the conference room's open door. "I think I'll see what he's up to."

He walked across the hallway and stepped through the conference room door. What he saw made him remove his sunglasses in astonishment. Giant posters full of scribbles and strange pictures were tacked and taped onto each wall. Thumb tacks were stuck all over the posters, with different colors of yarn looping around each tack and connecting to other ones across the room, creating a massive maze above Blubs's head. In the center of the mess, Agent Cooper stood on top of the table, surrounded by stacks of books, currently pinning down a blue strand to a crudely drawn eyeball on the far end of the room. He stopped when he saw Blubs.

"Hello, Sheriff!" he greeted him with a cheerful wave that almost got his hand tangled. "Look at all this! Isn't it fantastic?"

"Fantastic?" Blubs repeated, still not making any sense of it. "That's not the word I'd use. What the heck is going on in here, Coop?"

"Well, there's a simple explanation for that, Blubs." He ducked under the web of yarn and slid off the table so that he was standing in front of the sheriff. "Someone else has seen strange things happening in this town. These are all his different theories about them. I'm finding connections. You see, even if none of them line up completely, there could still be consistencies between them. Chaos is rarely consistent. Find the consistencies, and you find the truth!"

Blubs looked up and around at the mess. "Uh-huh…consistencies…where'd you get all this?"

"Fiddleford McGucket."

Blubs rubbed his temple in frustration. "Look, Agent Cooper, I appreciate how hard you're trying, but McGucket's brain is as gone as they get. I wouldn't trust him to tell me the weather."

Coop replied, "Blubs, I talked to him. I know what's wrong with him. He lost his memory and his mind because he saw something he shouldn't have. McGucket may seem crazy, but there's still a genius locked in there somewhere." He paused, looked around at McGucket's conspiracy theories, then added, "He mentioned working for someone else. It was many years ago, but he didn't know how many. I asked him about Windom Earle, but he didn't recognize the name."

"Windom Earle? You mean the cave guy?"

Coop froze. He hadn't meant to let that man's name slip out. "Yes," he answered slowly, "the cave guy."

Blubs crossed his arms and looked the agent over. "So you did know him, then. What'd you lie about that for?"

"It doesn't matter," Coop said, much more coldly than normal. "We had a bit of a bad history with each other, but he's dead now. Well, maybe dead isn't the right term," he added, the image of BOB stealing Earle's soul flashing through his mind. "He's gone anyway, for all intents and purposes. Trust me, Blubs, if Earle was looking for something around here, whether he found it or not, that's practically confirmation that something supernatural is going on. It may be hidden in the shadows, but it's here. If he was the man McGucket worked for…"

"He wasn't," Blubs interrupted. "You've got your timeline messed up, Agent Cooper. I don't know what made Old Man McGucket lose it, but it happened about thirty years ago. Windom Earle came to town only a few years back. That man was a nutcase before Earle even stepped foot in this town."

Agent Cooper took a step back, thinking. He was relieved to hear that Windom Earle had not been McGucket's partner, but something still felt amiss. Earle would never have been exploring the caves of Gravity Falls without a reason. "Blubs," he finally asked, "how many years ago would you say Windom Earle came to Gravity Falls?"

Blubs counted back on his fingers. "One…two…I don't know, probably about five or six. Why?"

"Five or six years," Coop repeated. "Five or six years." He ducked and twisted around several low-hanging strings to reach the chalkboard and began writing dates, starting about ten years earlier and ending four years ago. He finished writing and looked at his discovery. "It matches up perfectly."

"What matches up?" Blubs asked. He attempted to join Coop by the chalkboard, but ended up entangling himself halfway. "Um…Coop? A little help?"

Though he spoke aloud, Agent Cooper was primarily talking to himself. "He was released then, and after that went searching for Owl Cave, which he found there…Blubs, I was right. Windom Earle was searching for a supernatural gateway when he was released. He was working with the military, of course, but he was looking for it from the beginning. He didn't come straight to Twin Peaks after all. Earle's first stop was here, in Gravity Falls." He pondered the situation silently, then snapped his fingers and said excitedly, "The caves! Of course! He was looking for the entry point that was in Owl Cave, but he thought it was in these caves first!" He spun around to face the very tangled sheriff as he recalled the picture he had seen of Bill Cipher's ancient drawing. "Blubs, I have to see the cave paintings as soon as possible."

"Cave paintings?" Blubs repeated, confused and unable to move. "Why? I mean, we've got plenty up there, but I don't see how…"

"I'll go first thing tomorrow," he decided. "My, this is shaping up to be quite the adventure. Here, let me get you out of there."

Agent Cooper reached over and, with some lifting and twisting, managed to free Blubs from his yarn trap. As he led him over to the door, he added, "Oh, I almost forgot! McGucket mentioned the previous agents appearing all around town. He specifically recalled the mall, the Mystery Shack, and Northwest Manor. You know what I need?"

"A psychiatrist?"

"Nope. A list. I need you or Durland to write down every place you can think of where you know Powers and Trigger went. There could be a connection. I also need coffee. Buckets and buckets of coffee."

Before he knew what was happening, Blubs was out of the conference room and Agent Cooper was back to writing on the chalkboard. The sheriff sighed and shook his head. "Well, that's it then. He's lost it. Durland, where's my coffee mug?"


	16. Questions and Answers

**(A/N: Helloooooo! Thought I disappeared forever? Well, that's what everyone thought about Twin Peaks, and guess what else is back? Obviously, this story deviates pretty far from anything going on in season 3 of TP, so unless I make some vague references here and there, you're not going to need to know the new season to get any of it. I'm actually several episodes behind, so no spoilers in the reviews please! Also, I'd like to hear your thoughts on my characterization of Pacifica. I expect her to be a little angsty after the whole ghost ordeal, especially with her parents not learning their lesson at all, but I hope I didn't go too far overboard with that. She's still Pacifica, after all, not Robbie. Anyway, back to your regularly scheduled program...)**

"Audrey?"

The young assistant looked up from the big green book of accounts that her nose was buried in. "Yes, Mr. Northwest?"

Preston stood up and smoothed out his suit, walking out from behind his desk as he replied, "I have a meeting at the Club and will most likely be out all day. The office is yours until I return. I expect you to have an idea to restore the Northwest family reputation on my desk by tomorrow morning, so I advise you take advantage of the resources in here. However, if anything is damaged, it comes out of your paycheck. And don't drink out of either of my gold coffee mugs, please."

"Of course, Mr. Northwest." As her boss opened the door to leave, Audrey remembered her conversation with Pacifica. "Wait, Mr. Northwest! I have a question."

The wealthiest man in Gravity Falls stopped and turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised. "A question?"

"Yes, a question." She took two steps closer to him and continued. "What exactly happened here last weekend?"

Mr. Northwest simply stared at her with the same surprised expression.

She explained, "I normally wouldn't pry, sir, but if you expect me to salvage your family's reputation, don't you think it would make sense to tell me how it was ruined in the first place? It would really help me do my job more efficiently, which I'm sure is what you want."

Preston Northwest's face clouded for a moment before resuming its arrogant, nonchalant shape. "Our reputation is not ruined," he clarified. "We are the absolute best this town has to offer. Nothing can ruin that. It just needs a little…polish."

Audrey could tell that her boss was avoiding the question. "But sir…"

"I'll see you tomorrow, Audrey."

He shut the door behind him quickly, leaving his new assistant alone in the study. She stared at the door as his footsteps down the hallways grew fainter and fainter. _Pacifica wasn't lying_ , she determined. _No one would act like that if there wasn't something to hide. But what is it?_

Suddenly, the sound of a loud phone ringing interrupted her thoughts. She hurried to the desk, sat down in Preston Northwest's extremely large chair, and picked up the phone. "Office of Preston Northwest," she said. "This is his assistant, Audrey Horne."

"Hello," said the voice on the other end. "This is John Benson from the mud flap factory. Is Mr. Northwest available? I have some questions about the new design."

"Oh. Um, sorry, he won't be back until tomorrow. Would you like me to take a message?"

John Benson thought for a moment, then replied, "Actually, could you just ask him to come to the factory when he's available? It's probably best I show him in person."

Audrey felt around the desk until she found a notebook and pen. Holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder, she wrote down, "John Benson. Come to factory. Questions on new design."

"Anything else?"

"No, that's all. Thanks, Annie."

"Audrey," she corrected him, but he hung up before he could hear it.

Audrey set down the phone and sunk back into the ridiculous, thronelike chair of her boss. This was the first time she had seen the study from this particular perspective, and it felt strange. The countless luxury decorations stuck out like a hundred sore thumbs against the plain books, files, and cabinets, giving the air between them a silent, dead feeling.

She tapped on the desk with her pen restlessly. There was no way she could think in a place like this. She needed ideas and inspiration, not gold coffee mugs. A copy of the day's newspaper sat on the far side of the large desk. Audrey pulled it closer and began to flip through the headlines, hoping for an idea, any idea. Perhaps something newsworthy was going on in Gravity Falls that the Northwests had the funds to address in some way. However, there was little in the _Gravity Falls Gossiper_ that seemed remotely interesting, let alone decent journalism. That is, until she turned to page B6.

"Farmer's Eight-Legged Cow Escapes?" she read aloud, not completely believing her own eyes. "How is that an article? What does that even mean?"

Audrey's investigative instincts took over. The project could wait. This was beyond strange, and she had to learn more. She dived straight into the article. Her first thought was that this had to be a satirical piece, or a prank, but the numerous quotes from a certain Farmer Sprott and other witnesses, and, most shockingly, a very clear photo of Octavia, the eight-legged cow. "What kind of town am I living in?" she whispered in disbelief.

"A messed up one," a young girl's voice said.

Audrey dropped the newspaper in surprise and saw Pacifica standing just inside the door. "Pacifica," she said, "what are you doing here?"

"My mom knows I'd never hide in my dad's study," she explained as she gently shut the still slightly cracked open door. "Did you ask him about the weekend?"

Audrey nodded. "He didn't give me much of an answer."

Pacifica examined her hot pink nail polish. "Of course not. He just _loves_ his secrets."

At this point, Audrey stood up and walked away from her desk, toward Pacifica. "Listen, Pacifica," she began gently, "I need to know what's going on here. I don't care if it's embarrassing. My family's had some pretty big scandals before, so I'm sure it's nothing I can't handle. It's just so much easier to restore a reputation if I know what hurt it in the first place, you know?"

The blonde girl looked up, making eye contact at last. "My parents are not good people, Audrey," she said. "They'd do anything to keep the rest of the town from knowing that. They'd also do anything to keep the rest of the town from thinking we're anything but their superiors. You want to know why I'm in trouble?"

"Why?"

"Because I let normal people into our house during our biggest, fanciest, most impressive party of the year. I mean, yeah, most of them behaved like slobs, but my parents would rather have been murdered by a ghost than allow them even a glimpse at the party. Sick, isn't it?"

Audrey folded her arms. "Pacifica, that sounds like an exaggeration."

"Ha!" Pacifica tossed her perfectly groomed hair. "You think I'm joking? There was a literal ghost in my house trying to kill us all because my family didn't let normal people into our house for, like, a hundred fifty years or something. It's ridiculous. I saved their shallow, rich lives and now they're more upset at me than when I maxed out both my credit cards."

The woman she was speaking to was unsure what was harder to believe: a ghost attacking a snobbish family, or a twelve-year-old having two credit cards and maxing out both. Given her experience in Twin Peaks, the ghost thing sounded a little out there, but not impossible. It was certainly intriguing, the sort of thing that would no doubt bring up legends of the Black Lodge if it happened back home. Still, Audrey remembered lying for attention at times while growing up. Pacifica easily could be doing the same thing. _The best way to determine this_ , she thought, _is to find out details. That's what Coop would do. Well, besides keeping a dream journal and throwing rocks at windows._

"Tell me more about this…ghost," she said, pulling over two small chairs. She could do without Preston's throne.

"Why?" Pacifica shot back, suddenly defensive. "Don't believe me? Think I'm crazy or something?"

"No!" Audrey quickly denied. "Nothing like that. I just need more information." When she received only silence, she added, "Pacifica, I don't think you're crazy. Where I come from, a murderous ghost is almost normal. Twin Peaks is a pretty weird town. Whatever's going on here, I can handle it. Well," she laughed, "except maybe that eight-legged cow."

Pacifica raised her eyebrows, eerily similar to her father's expression. "Audrey, if Octavia freaks you out, you are so not ready for Gravity Falls."

Before she could elaborate further, Priscilla Northwest's heels tapped loudly past the door. "Pacifica!" she called. Audrey and Pacifica both froze. "Pacifica, when I find you…" She trailed off as her heels were heard clicking away.

Once she was safely gone, Pacifica asked quietly, "Can we, like, go somewhere else? She'll kill me if she finds out I'm telling you this stuff. But not somewhere with too many p…people," she said, carefully stopping herself from reverting back to her old habit of avoiding the "poor people" of Gravity Falls. "I just don't want them to recognize me, okay?" she quickly added, covering up her near slip.

"Of course," Audrey said, looking around the office. "I can't get any work done in here anyway. Where do you think we could avoid being noticed?"

Pacifica thought for a second, then replied, "I think I know just the place."


End file.
